Fanfiction based on Stephanie Meyer’s Twilight Series 

Rated M for Mature

 

Seismic Hazards

 

By Mac214 

 
 

Summary: Bella has fled to San Francisco, and is hoping to stay incognito. Who is she hiding 
from, and what secrets are her neighbors keeping? AH-AU. OOC. 
 
 

~*~  

 

 

 

1. 

 

 
The day had been ridiculously long; moving cross-country was a grueling experience, one I did 
not care to repeat. Ever. After the moving van pulled away, I had heaved a heavy sigh and spent 
the next six hours cleaning the apartment and unpacking the kitchen. The rest of the apartment 
could wait. My last official act had been to set up my bed – the only furniture so far in my 
bedroom – and put fresh sheets on it. I took a quick shower to wash off the stink of the move and 
crawled into bed, sighing at the feeling of cool, crisp sheets against my skin. 
 
The pull of sleep dragged me into semi-consciousness. I assumed I was in the middle of a weird 
dream when it seemed like my bed vibrated beneath me; the sound of glass breaking snapped me 
wide awake, though. The bed still trembled, but I didn't have time to think too much about it – 
more glass shattered somewhere in my apartment. 
 
I had moved to San Francisco from Philadelphia. As a city girl, my mind immediately went 
straight to Oh my god, someone broke into my apartment already. It wouldn't have been the first 
time for me. I had learned the hard way that security bars on the second floor windows are a 
must. 
 
It seemed exceptionally noisy. Clearly, my apartment was under siege by the world's least 
stealthy burglar. I grabbed my phone off the floor and dialed 911. It was busy. 
 
How was 911 busy? What kind of shitty ass city had I moved to? 
 
I had absolutely no idea where my baseball bat had been packed, so I slid out of bed with the 
intent of trying to hide. That's when I realized my entire floor was shaking… and the shaking 
seemed to be building in intensity. 
 
Oh fuck! Earthquake! 
 
Charlie, my father, had mentioned it in passing that San Francisco was earthquake-prone, but it 
barely registered. I did have a folder full of articles about what to do in case of an earthquake; I 
hadn't read a single one, instead opting to spend my plane ride panicking about whether the 
movers would show up. Stay calm, stay calm, I told myself as I tried to remember something – 
anything! – about what to do during an earthquake. It was when part of my bedroom wall 
cracked off that I panicked. I ran for the front door of my apartment and flung open the door, my 
breath coming in short pants as I tried to figure out what the hell I should do. The street had to be 
the safest place. Nothing there to fall on me… you know, like a building. 
 
Oh jeebus crisp, the building was going to fucking fall on me. I had to get out of the building! As 
I turned toward the stairs – at least I remembered not to take the elevator – the tremors stopped. 
Just stopped. The noise continued… glass breaking, thumps, car alarms blaring. And then the 

sound of someone clearing his throat. 
 
I half whirled around and nearly shit my pants when the shaking started up again. 
 
"What the hell?" I gasped. 
 
An amused voice said, "It's just an aftershock. Stand in your door frame, just in case." 
 
I didn't move. I couldn't. My knees shook and I was just completely freaked out. There was a 
chuckle and then I felt a hand close over my wrist; he pulled me toward a doorway and hugged 
me into his very solid chest. It wasn't until I felt his hand on the skin of my lower back that I 
realized I was stark naked – I had never put on pajamas before I went to bed. 
 
"Fuck!" I panicked anew. Some strange man had his arms around me, and I was nude and 
halfway into his apartment. I pushed away from him and wrapped my arms around my chest. My 
eyes felt as wide as saucers as I looked, horrified, into the vicinity of his neck. 
 
He had already shrugged out of his shirt and it hung from his fingertip as he offered it to me, his 
eyes staring politely up at the ceiling. 
 
I yanked the shirt on quickly and clutched the edges together around me. There was another jolt; 
I launched myself into the man's arms and whimpered. 
 
"Relax, it'll be over soon," he said, not a hint of anxiety in his voice. It vaguely registered that he 
smelled fantastic, all warm and spicy. 
 
The waves that seemed to be undulating up my legs stopped, although I was still a quivering 
mess. 
 
"First earthquake?" the man asked, the sound rumbling through his chest. His voice was soothing 
and nice. 
 
I nodded. "Is it done?" 
 
"There might be more aftershocks, although you probably won't feel them." 
 
Fear clawed at my stomach. More aftershocks? What had I gotten myself into? 
 
"You must be the new neighbor," he said as he gently rubbed my back. "My name is Edward." 
 
"Maureen," I said hesitantly. "Call me Mo, everyone does." It felt so foreign on my tongue to say 
it out loud. Maureen had been my mother's middle name. I had chosen it because it seemed like 
it would be easier for me to remember, rather than a name that had no connection to my real life. 
No one here could know my real name. 
 
I wasn't looking forward to packing my apartment back up, but it would have to be done. There 

was no way in hell I was going to live here. I wondered if I could get the movers to give me a 
volume discount. I couldn't go back to Philadelphia. Maybe Seattle? 
 
"Nice to meet you, Mo. Can I give you some advice?" 
 
I barely registered what he was saying to me but I think I must have nodded. 
 
"The first rule of living in California is don't sleep naked until you get used to the quakes." 
 
My new next door neighbor had seen me totally bare-assed. Shit. It wasn't exactly the first 
impression I was hoping to make – in fact, I was kind of hoping that no one would even notice 
me. The guy seemed nice enough, though, and he smelled delicious. As much as I wanted to stay 
where I was and let my humiliation subside enough to face him without feeling like an idiot, I 
doubted he was interested in humoring me. 
 
"Uh, thanks," I said, sure that my face was purple with embarrassment as I squirmed out of his 
arms. I looked at his face for the first time. His features were too sharp to be considered 
classically handsome, but there was something about his face that was… arresting. His pale 
green eyes were so light that they practically looked gray, and the square black glasses slightly 
magnified the size of them. The close-cropped auburn hair was unkempt but clean-looking. An 
annoying smirk hovered on his full lips. My guess would be that he was in his late twenties. 
 
The lights in the hall flickered twice and went out. 
 
"Shit," I muttered. There was no way in hell I was going to find a flashlight or candles in my 
apartment. I couldn't even remember if I had packed those things. I had left quite a bit behind, 
anxious to get the hell out of there in a hurry. 
 
"You okay?" Edward asked in the darkness. 
 
"Not even remotely. Do you have a flashlight or something I could borrow? I'm not really 
unpacked yet, and I'm clearly not getting back to sleep anytime soon." 
 
"Do you want to just come in and hang out with me for a bit until you get settled down? You 
looked like you could use a drink before the lights went out," he said. He touched my shoulder 
with just a fingertip and teased, "I've got wine and know exactly where my corkscrew is." 
 
I didn't know another soul in San Francisco, and even though Edward was a complete stranger – 
one who had seen me completely naked, at that – I really could use a drink, and I really didn't 
fancy being alone right that instant. My drafty nether regions demanded attention first, though. 
 
"Uh… I think I need to go put some clothes on, but yeah. I would really like some wine right 
now." 
 
"Do you have your clothes unpacked yet?" 
 

The boxes were at least marked 'clothes' but I didn't think I'd be able to find what I wanted very 
easily. "No," I muttered. "I only managed to get the kitchen done." 
 
Edward chuckled. "Well, I'll lend you some sweats and a shirt, okay?" 
 
He was quickly becoming my favorite person. I hoped he wasn't a creepy serial rapist or mass 
murderer disguised as a nice guy. I was inclined to be much more wary of strangers, but 
something about him protecting me during my first earthquake had endeared him to me. I forgot 
to be ridiculously suspicious. 
 
"Thank you so much," I said as he led me into his apartment by the elbow. 
 
"The couch is right behind you." I leaned down to feel around for the couch in the darkness, and 
eased onto it, still holding the shirt shut tightly around me. I heard Edward shuffling around the 
apartment, drawers opening and closing. Finally, I heard a sharp scratching noise and caught a 
whiff of matches before I saw a burst of light. Edward lit a candle and walked around his 
apartment to light a few others scattered about. The soft light dimly lit the room. 
 
He smiled gently at me before walking out of the living room; he returned a few moments later 
with some clothes. Edward handed me the candle and the clothes, gesturing to a door. 
 
"The bathroom is right there. Help yourself." 
 
I hustled into the room, my hands pulling at the hem of Edward's shirt so I didn't flash him my 
bare ass on the way. As I closed the door behind me, I set the candle down on the counter and 
avoided looking in the mirror. Even though I was 29 years old, it didn't stop me from being 
ridiculously superstitious, especially after the year I'd just had. I may not have seriously believed 
that looking into a mirror in a dark room and chanting "Bloody Mary" would bring on a crazy, 
vengeful spirit, but I wasn't about to tempt fate. 
 
I avoided sidewalk cracks, walking under ladders, and black cats. I threw salt over my shoulder 
when it spilled. I refused to open umbrellas indoors. Considering there had been what I assumed 
was a major earthquake on my first night living in San Francisco, there would be no pressing my 
luck right now. 
 
The horseshoe necklace I wore caught on the button of Edward's shirt as I slipped it off my 
shoulders. I untangled it, and pulled the long-sleeved t-shirt over my head. The sweatpants, 
luckily, had a drawstring, otherwise I think they would have fallen right off of me. The shirt 
floated on me too, but I didn't care. My buns weren't hanging out, and that was all that mattered. 
 
I hung Edward's shirt on the back of the door, grabbed the candle, and walked back into the 
living room. Edward had a bottle of wine, a couple of glasses, and a few plates of food laid out 
on his coffee table. He looked up and shrugged with a smile. 
 
"The electricity rarely goes out because of earthquakes around here," he said. "It'll probably be 
back on within the hour. You never know, though – maybe a car hit a transformer. I just made 

liver pate this morning, and I don't want it to go to waste." 
 
He made liver pate? He cooked? Maybe my luck was looking up – having a neighbor who could 
make a decent meal was a definite plus. 
 
Edward poured the wine as I sat on the couch again. 
 
"Thanks, Edward." 
 
He handed me a glass. "For what?" 
 
"For the clothes. For taking pity on me. For feeding me. Take your pick." 
 
"So where are you from?" he asked. 
 
"What makes you think I'm not from here?" 
 
He laughed and took a drink. "Uh, you ran naked out of your apartment during a minor 
earthquake. And it looked like you were going for the stairs when I stopped you." 
 
I was glad for the dim candlelight in the room so Edward couldn't see the humiliation staining 
my cheeks. I was determined to ignore the fact that he had clearly seen my goods. 
 
"That was minor?" 
 
"Yeah. My guess is it wasn't even a five pointer." 
 
"Edward, how long have you lived here?" I asked. If he considered that a 'minor' earthquake, he 
must be used to this sort of thing. 
 
"Oh, all my life," he said. That explained it. 
 
"So… what should I have done during the earthquake?" 
 
He laughed. "Well, the stairwell of this building has been fortified, so it probably wouldn't have 
been a horrible idea, but I doubt you were planning to stay in the stairwell, were you?" 
 
"No, I was thinking I should get outside." 
 
"Yeah, I thought so," he said with a grin. "OK, so here's Earthquake 101. There are a couple of 
earthquakes each day around here but most of them are so small you won't even feel them. You'll 
get maybe one each week that's above a 3.0. You might feel something. There are a few each 
year that are 4.0-ish, like the one we had tonight. How much shaking you feel directly correlates 
to how deep or shallow the quake is." 
 
I nodded to indicate that I understood. 

 
"As I mentioned, our building has been fortified. You-" 
 
I interrupted, "But part of my wall fell off!" 
 
"My friend Emmett used to live next door," he snorted. "It was probably just a matter of a shitty 
repair job, rather than actual earthquake damage. Don't worry, I'll get him to come back over and 
fix it correctly. Anyway, like I said, the building has been fortified, so the stairwell would offer 
some protection in case of a quake. For the most part, though, a lot of us just stand in a doorway 
until the rumbling stops. My mom prefers to hide under a table with a couch cushion above her 
head… I hear that's actually the officially preferred position now – duck and cover. Just stay 
away from windows because of shattering glass. But you never want to run outside." 
 
"Why not? It seems like you'd be less likely to have stuff fall on you." 
 
"Uh, not quite," he said. "You're much more likely to be hit by falling signs or poles, or parts of 
buildings. Cars can lose control. There's much more danger outside, even from smaller 
earthquakes." 
 
"Good to know… thanks." I tried some of Edward's pate and nearly moaned. It was delicious. It 
temporarily took my mind off the image of me getting squashed in the middle of the street by a 
wayward car. 
 
"You never answered my question," he said, wordlessly offering me a small cheese board. 
"Where are you from?" 
 
I nabbed a sliver of cheese and munched while stalling. I really didn't want to talk about why I 
moved or where I was from. Charlie would kill me, and I certainly wasn't interested in a lecture 
from him. 
 
"I moved here from New York," I said carefully, testing the lie. 
 
"City?" he asked. 
 
I nodded. "You've been?" 
 
"Yeah," Edward said. "A few times. I have a buddy who lives in the Bronx and has an artisan 
cheese making business." 
 
"Mmmm," I said. "What do you do, Edward?" I desperately wanted to change the subject. 
Anything relating to New York was chance-y – I'd been to New York dozens of times, but I 
didn't have the kind of a knowledge a true resident would have. Charlie would have a fit if I 
made anyone suspicious of me. 
 
He regarded me coolly for a moment; for a second I thought he might probe for more details but 
he didn't. Instead he took another drink and handed me a cracker piled with pate. 

 
"Do you like the liver?" 
 
"Yes, it's very good. Do you cook a lot?" I inwardly heaved a sigh of relief. I would have done 
almost anything to talk about something other than myself. 
 
He nodded. The candlelight flickered off the fine planes of his face, throwing shadows that made 
his face look almost gaunt. 
 
"I do. It helps me relax," he said. 
 
I took a swallow of wine; it was probably a bad idea for me to drink too much. Even though the 
earthquake had jolted me pretty effectively from my sleep, my body was exhausted. Jake had 
told me on more than one occasion that when I got like this, I babbled. 
 
Jake. I couldn't think about him now. 
 
The dull ache in my heart was just a part of who I was now, but it didn't make the memories any 
easier to stomach. The lights flickered on, and with the lights came the soft hum of Edward's 
refrigerator and the beep of a computer booting back up. I blinked my eyes furiously to adjust to 
the bright lights and noticed that Edward's apartment was neat and tidy, relatively spare. A 
wooden desk with a computer on the other side of the room. Two bookcases bulging with novels. 
The couch on which I was sitting – a putty gray – and the chair where Edward was perched. A 
low coffee table and a floor lamp. That was it. Even the walls were devoid of mementos. 
 
Being in this apartment was freaking me out. I worried that I'd start to babble any second, spill 
my entire life story. I stood up nervously and cleared my throat. 
 
"Thank you so much for everything, Edward," I said, holding my hand out to him. 
 
He slid his fingers against mine and gripped my hand for a moment. "You're very welcome. Feel 
free to stop by if you need anything – I work from home, so I'm here a lot." He was regarding me 
so intently it was making me a little nervous, almost as if he knew. 
 
I panicked a little. It was irrational; there was no way this guy could know anything – I just met 
him. I smiled brightly and moved toward the door. 
 
Edward walked me out into the hallway. 
 
"Sweet dreams, Mo," he said. My head was so far away that I nearly corrected him. The last 
thing I needed was to tell him the truth. 
 
I smiled politely, thanked him again for his kindness, and quickly sought the refuge of my new 
apartment. I flicked on the light to my kitchen and assessed the damage. It wasn't too bad – a 
couple of glass tumblers had smashed on the floor, and a salt shaker had shattered. After 
sweeping up the fragments, I took a pinch of the salt and threw it over my shoulder. It never hurt 

to have luck on my side. 
 

 

2.  

 

 
The phone woke me up. Only one person had the phone number: Charlie. 
 
"Good morning," I answered. My entire body ached as if I had spent two hours in the gym. I 
rubbed my eyes and realized my throat felt thick and scorched – I had probably been snoring. It 
was shocking that I slept at all. After I had returned to my apartment last night, I crawled into 
bed and waited for the shaking to start again. 
 
"Is everything alright? Your apartment is fine?" Charlie was always straight to the point, but that 
wasn't surprising. Neither one of us were delusional enough to believe that pleasantries would 
change anything between us. I was only allowing him to help me because I was in serious 
trouble, and Charlie was only bothering with me because of some misguided loyalty to my 
mother. Without him, I'd probably be in the hospital or worse, though, so I tolerated his attempts 
to appear fatherly when the mood struck him. 
 
"Yeah, Charlie. Everything is good." I decided not to mention the earthquake to him. 
 
"Look, I have an associate who runs a bike messenger service on the block. You need to act 
normal and keep up the appearance that you're living your life. I arranged for you to work 
dispatch there… said you were my bookie's daughter. I'll text you the information later." 
 
What does one wear while trying to pretend to be a bookie's kid? My wardrobe was full of 
business suits – I doubted my banker's best would fit in very well in the dispatch office. 
 
"Any sign that something isn't right and you call me. In the meantime, you need to learn to fight 
and handle a gun." 
 
I rolled my eyes. No amount of self-defense training would help me – I was a buck twenty, 
soaking wet, with the upper body strength of a six year old girl. And a gun? I'd probably just 
accidentally shoot myself. Hell, I'd run out of my apartment naked in a panic last night. Being 
calm under pressure was obviously not my strong suit. 
 
"Bella, do you hear me, or am I talking to myself here?" Charlie sounded annoyed. 
 
"I hear you," I said wryly. "I'm pretty sure the guy Jake hired to beat me up isn't going to be 
stopped by a little girl with a rape whistle and a Napoleon complex." 
 
The sound that came over the phone was like a cross between the wheezing and choking noise of 
someone who needed the Heimlich and a hacking, tubercular cough. I realized that Charlie was 

laughing. 
 
"When Garrett gets done with you, you'll be able to kill someone with your bare hands," he 
chortled. 
 
Gee, there was a resume builder if I ever heard one. It was bad enough I'd probably never work 
in the banking industry again. Who on earth would hire someone who could maim their 
coworkers with a ball point pen or a paper clip? 
 
"Who's Garrett?" I asked, dreading the answer. Charlie didn't know normal people. He served as 
a private investigator to Philly's less savory crowd. Everyone who moved in Charlie's circles was 
either a criminal or on their way to being a criminal. How he ever met my mother was a mystery. 
I barely remembered him, other than the vague memory of a smoking man handing me a teddy 
bear as a child and then slapping my mother. He had never lived with us, and my mother 
eventually cut him out of our lives entirely. She never spoke of him, and I never asked. 
 
"Former Marine," Charlie said. "Owes me a favor. I gave him your cell phone number, so expect 
a call today. He'll have a gun for you." 
 
I felt helpless to argue with Charlie. He was only doing what he thought would protect me, and, 
truthfully, I was grateful to him. Who knew what might have happened if Charlie didn't have the 
connections he did. 
 
"That's it," he said. "Talk to you later." The phone went dead in my ear. 
 
"Yeah, see ya," I muttered, tossing the phone on my unmade bed. 
 
A sharp rap on my door made me wish I had spent the time last night after I returned to my 
apartment to find where I had packed that baseball bat. I felt exposed without a weapon. The best 
I could do was assault the person at my front door with my disgusting morning breath. 
 
Still in Edward's borrowed clothes, I cautiously crept to the door and peeked through the 
peephole. A tiny girl with a huge smile and shiny black hair stood outside in the hall. 
 
"I don't need a copy of the Watchtower or a magazine subscription right now," I called. 
 
"Yeah, me neither," a high-pitched voice returned. "I'm your neighbor. I brought breakfast." 
 
None of my neighbors in Philadelphia had so much as looked my way, let alone said hello. I 
would have assumed a neighbor offering me breakfast was trying to get into my pants or trying 
to get elected. I reminded myself that attitudes on the West Coast were far different than the 
Northeast. Hell, attitudes everywhere were completely different from the Northeast. Several 
years ago I had nearly punched a guy in the Houston airport when he stood too close to me – I 
thought he was going to grab my purse and run; he had just wanted to know the time. I stepped 
back from the door and unlocked it, slid the safety chain off, and slowly opened the door a crack. 
 

"Hey, I'm Alice," said the stranger in the hallway. "I promise I'm not a Jehovah's Witness or a 
sales person. Are you going to let me in?" 
 
She looked harmless enough. In addition to being smaller than me, she was pregnant. On her 
petite frame, the rounded belly jutted out in an almost comical way. She looked pretty young, 
maybe not older than 18. I doubted she was going to assault me with the small basket of muffins 
in her hands. 
 
When I didn't answer right away, she giggled and pushed her way past me into the apartment. 
 
"Wow, didn't have much time to unpack yesterday, I see," she said as she glanced around my 
living room. My couch and armchair were stacked with boxes; I hastily moved them so we could 
sit. 
 
"I'm Mo," I said, shaking her hand. She was cold and clammy. Sitting down on my couch, she 
immediately strained to pull a box toward her and set the basket on top. 
 
"I know!" she smiled. "I ran into Edward this morning. Lived through your first earthquake, I 
see. I was in the middle of a massage when it happened. My container of vanilla massage butter 
flipped over onto Mrs. Harkin's floor. It missed her couch by this much." She held her fingers 
close and made a face. "I'm a massage therapist," she added. 
 
I nodded and picked up a muffin. "Thanks for this." 
 
"So Edward tells me you're from New York," Alice said, peeling back the paper wrapper of a 
muffin. "I was there once. You don't sound like a New Yorker." 
 
Internally, the panic ran hot through my veins. I had barely said a handful of words to this girl – 
and none of them were things that could have given me away. 
 
Alice continued jabbering, waving her hands around as she talked. "Well, I mean, you don't 
sound like those guys on the Sopranos. Oh wait, they were from New Jersey. Never mind." 
 
She had to stop talking about me. It was making me nervous. 
 
"Where are you from, Alice?" I asked before she could say anything else. 
 
"Oh, Kansas, originally," she answered with a grimace. "I've lived here for a few months. Isn't 
San Francisco great? Have you been to Fisherman's Wharf yet? Oh, I know that native San 
Franciscans hate the place, but I love the sea lions. They're just so cute! I don't care how badly 
they smell." 
 
She prattled on and on – about her work, the weather, her favorite places in the city. I had to 
admit that it was just nice to sit and listen to her talk; the cadence of her speech was almost 
soothing. It was the first time in weeks that I wasn't worried someone would jump out from 
behind a bush or a door and beat the hell out of me. I nodded and said "uh huh" at appropriate 

intervals and just tried to relax. 
 
My cell phone rang from my bedroom. I knew better than to ignore a call right now, so I stood 
and said, "I have to take that." 
 
Alice smiled and walked toward the door. "No problem. It was nice to meet you, Mo. I'm sure I'll 
see you soon!" 
 
I ran to my bedroom as she let herself out and grabbed the phone. 
 
"Hello?" 
 
"Maureen?" 
 
"Yes?" I wondered how long it would take for that to feel natural coming out of my mouth. 
 
"My name is Garrett Franklin. Charlie Smith asked me to call. Said you had a restraining order 
out on your boyfriend and needed to learn to defend yourself." 
 
I rolled my eyes. I was going to need a flow chart to keep all my stories straight. I had forgotten 
that Charlie didn't use "Swan" professionally, and I only wished having a restraining order would 
work. We worked out the details of when to meet and where. Garrett said we should have two 
sessions per week, starting tomorrow. I hoped that the gun this guy would give me would be 
something small and easily hidden away. 
 
My preference would have been to crawl back into bed and feel sorry for myself for the rest of 
the day, but the boxes weren't going to unpack themselves. I had a feeling Alice would be back, 
and it might seem odd if nothing ever got put away. I had to at least pretend that everything in 
my life was perfectly normal. Plus, I really wanted to find that baseball bat. 
 
Five hours later, the living room had been unpacked and set up. Charlie said I shouldn't put up 
any family photos, but I couldn't bear leave my photos behind. I promised myself that I would 
hide them at least, but I pulled them out and sat on my couch, paging through the albums. 
 
I missed my mother terribly. Renee had died a few years ago in a car accident. That was when 
Charlie had sort of come back into my life. He had randomly shown up at Renee's viewing, 
introduced himself to me as my father, and said he was sorry for my loss. I had just stared at him 
blankly and turned to the next person in the receiving line. When all this shit with Jake came to a 
head, he called me out of the blue and recommended I get out of town. He was… persuasive. I 
didn't want him in my life, but under the circumstances I felt it best to acquiesce. 
 
My finger traced the edge of my mother's hair in a photo of us smiling at my high school 
graduation. She had been a great mother. Renee worked two jobs to support our little family and 
make sure I never felt the loss of a father in my life. I never once felt deprived… of anything. 
Except the day my mother died. 
 

I flipped the page and stared sadly at a photo of me and Jake. How had all of this gone so 
completely wrong? Was I really that bad at judging character? Jake was certainly not the person I 
thought he was. My fingers unconsciously moved to graze my chin where Jake had… 
 
A low moan sounded through the wall, pulling me from my memories abruptly. It had to be 
coming from Edward's apartment. I ignored it and went back to wallowing in self-pity until the 
moans started again, this time louder. And then the talking started. 
 
"Oh yeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah, that's right. Put your mouth on my dick. Yeah, suck it." 
 
My jaw practically unhinged as I swiveled my head toward the wall and let my mouth fall open 
in surprise. 
 
It was definitely Edward's voice begging someone to use their teeth and go faster. Oh god, I 
should not be listening to that, I thought. It was strangely fascinating, though. I tried to picture 
Edward in the throes and just couldn't do it… he seemed so quiet last night. Friendly, but quiet. I 
recalled my mother saying once that it was "always the quiet ones you have to watch out for." 
Apparently, that was true. 
 
Edward continued to get his freak on for the next several hours. At one point, it sounded like he 
was spanking someone. I tried not to listen. I busied myself moving furniture around in my 
bedroom and unpacking my clothes. My beloved baseball bat found a place of honor in the 
corner next to my bed. No matter where I went, though, Edward's voice followed me around the 
apartment. I started counting the number of times Edward yelled, "Oh baby, I'm going to come 
all over your face!" After he said it for the tenth time, I figured that Edward obviously had some 
sort of sexual addiction. 
 
I had been grossed out yet amused. Interesting drinking games occurred to me. When Edward 
urged his companion to go faster, I could take a drink. When he yelled about coming, I'd have to 
finish my drink. I would have been wasted within an hour – I vowed to pick up a few bottles of 
wine in case Edward decided on a repeat performance sometime. 
 
I wondered how long I would have to stay in San Francisco. Living between a man with very 
loud ejaculation issues and an overly-friendly pregnant lady was better than the alternative, but it 
would still making living here difficult. 
 

 

 

3. 

 

"Show me how you throw a punch," Garrett said with a smirk. 
 
I had walked into the grungy boxing gym at the appointed time and found Garrett waiting for me 
at the front desk. He was a lot more attractive than I would have guessed; I always pictured 

Charlie's "associates" as old, fat, and balding. Admittedly, that had everything to do with my 
unhealthy obsession with watching Philadelphia news coverage of the local crime families. They 
all had names like "Skinny Joey" and were all chest hair and gold chains. For all I knew, 
Charlie's friends looked like male models. Charlie was not exactly what I would consider 
attractive, though, so it seemed doubtful that he ran with a beautiful crowd. 
 
Garrett pulled his sandy blonde hair back in a ponytail and put some kind of cushiony shield over 
his hand, I assumed to keep me from hurting him. It probably wouldn't be necessary for him to 
protect himself from my fists - in fact, the idea was laughable. I pulled my hand into a fist and 
threw my arm out to hit the target. 
 
He stared at me for a moment with an inscrutable look and then smiled widely. "Uh, okay. First 
things first: your thumb goes on the outside. If you hit someone with any force with your thumb 
on the inside of your fist, you'll break it. And second… if you're going to punch someone, you 
want to put your body weight behind it." 
 
"Maybe you didn't notice," I said sarcastically, "but I don't have a lot of body weight." 
 
Garrett snickered. "Look, I'm not going to teach you to box, so it doesn't really matter - no matter 
how much you weigh or how strong you are, I can teach you. You'll be learning hand to hand 
combat training. If that sick fuck lays another hand on you, you'll be able to make him eat that 
hand. Got it?" 
 
Well, when he put it like that... 
 
The rest of the morning passed quickly, Garrett trying to turn me into a fighter. Trying being the 
operative word. Garrett must have really owed Charlie a big favor, because he never once 
complained. He'd just sigh, tell me I was doing great, and keep going. I started to feel bad for the 
poor bastard after the third time I tripped over my feet. It could not have been fun or interesting 
for him to work with me. 
 
"Let's break here for the day, Maureen, alright?" he asked. I was so tired I nearly didn't realize he 
was speaking to me - I would definitely need to work on recognizing the fake name I chose. 
Garrett led me to the chair at the side of the room we had been working in and gave me a duffel 
bag. "There's a .38 Special in there with two boxes of ammunition." 
 
I just looked at him dumbly. Was he talking about the gun? What was so special about it? 
 
"You're going to learn how to use it, right?" he said, clearly exasperated. 
 
I nodded. "Yeah, Charlie's arranging it." I didn't add that I had absolutely no intention of actually 
using the gun, or even looking at it ever again unless Charlie insisted. It would sit in my closet 
and collect dust... hopefully. 
 
Meeting Charlie's other "associate," the one who owned the bike messenger business, was not 
quite as pleasant as dealing with Garrett. Where Garrett was tall and muscular and cute for an 

older man, Felix was paunchy with skin pitted by old acne scars. The office was worn and 
smelled like something unspeakable. I couldn't believe I was going to have to work here. 
 
Felix talked directly at my breasts with a moist mouth, his rotten front teeth flashing with each 
syllable he uttered. "Now Maureen, we don't do nuthin' illegal here. My couriers pick up and 
deliver packages. I don't care what's in the packages, and you won't either. Be here every day at 
noon, and you'll work until six. We'll get along just fine." 
 
I nodded. This was going to be insanely boring. Answer the phones, take the orders, dispatch the 
riders. At least it didn't seem possible to get into too much trouble or attract attention. There had 
been half a dozen bike messengers waiting for assignments when I came in, but not one of them 
even so much as glanced at me. They were all covered in tattoos and piercings, some with 
dreadlocks and long, unkempt hair. They probably thought I was some drab, boring girl. I really 
wanted to be. And until all this crap with Jake happened, I thought I was. 
 
"Oh, and no dating the bike messengers," Felix said, taking a step closer to me. He was invading 
my personal space, and he knew it; I took a step away and shifted my eyes nervously toward the 
door. He took another step forward and blew out a stream of air - his breath smelled like rancid 
tuna. My hand immediately flew to my horseshoe necklace, rubbing it furiously. "But if you 
wanna get a little something going with me, I'm game." 
 
Charlie would pay for this. I would never speak to him again after all this was over. If Felix hit 
on me every damned day, I'd have to find employment elsewhere. I would have just walked out, 
except this guy was willing to pay me under the table. 
 
I fled the office and walked back to my apartment building. As much as I loved and missed 
Philly, I was really enjoying the weather in San Francisco. The day was perfect-cloudless and 
warm with baby blue skies. It hadn't been so clear this morning, but the fog had burned off and 
now it was gorgeous. I didn't have anything to do for the rest of the day, but I was worried about 
being outdoors too much. What if someone recognized me? 
 
The apartment building was just down the street, and it took barely any time at all to get there. I 
fretted the whole way, wondering if maybe I should change my hair or get a giant pair of 
sunglasses to hide behind. I was so deep in thought, I didn't notice Edward standing in front of 
our building until I smacked into his chest. 
 
"Oh, uh, sorry," I said. I couldn't even look him in the face because of the stuff he had been 
yelling in his apartment the day before. The phrase "put your mouth on my dick" ran through my 
head over and over again as I tried (and failed) not to look at his crotch. I doubted Edward 
understood why the air between us was tense and uncomfortable, but I wasn't about to fill him in. 
 
"Why are you in such a hurry, Mo?" 
 
I didn't know what to say. I was hung up on how I'd vaguely wished I would have chosen a more 
exotic-sounding alias, and how I wanted to see some of the places Alice had raved about 
yesterday, but I was scared that some giant thug would jump out of a bush and try to kill me. 

More than anything, I missed my friends and longed for the time when my life was boring. 
Edward stood there, shifting his feet and waiting for me to speak. 
 
Forcing a laugh, I answered lamely, "Just eager to finish unpacking." 
 
My apartment already felt like prison. I might as well stock my kitchen with bread and water and 
be done with it. Life as I knew it was over; my new lot was hiding, learning to fight, and working 
a shitty job with a slimy boss. My chin trembled as I tried to keep it together. 
 
"Hey, it can't be that bad," Edward said. "How much could you possibly have left to unpack?" 
 
I realized too late that a tear had escaped down my cheek, a doorway into my complete misery. 
Giving Edward the full story about why I was so unhappy wasn't even a choice, which made me 
feel even worse. Getting away from him before I had a complete mental breakdown in the 
middle of the street was my only option. 
 
Speaking would probably lead to blubbering, so I flapped my hand at him uselessly and turned to 
head into the building. Before I could go, though, Edward reached out his pale hand and ran the 
pad of his thumb over my cheek, smearing the wetness. It had been so long since anyone touched 
me in tenderness that the dam broke. I lost it. I drew in a ragged breath, trying to control the 
torrent of tears that spilled onto my face. Seconds later my nose was pressed into Edward's shirt, 
and he gathered me in, one hand patting my hair and the other rubbing my back soothingly. I so 
wanted to be the girl who could be strong, who could suck it up and get through this...but I just 
wasn't. 
 
Edward was whispering stupid things into my ear that were meant to be comforting but just made 
me feel wretched. Nothing would ever be alright again. Nothing would ever be okay. It wasn't 
fine. I wasn't fine. 
 
And that was how I found myself back in Edward's apartment. He had led me to the elevator, my 
sobs growing louder with each step. Finally, he just scooped me up with an arm under my knees 
and held me close until he lay me down on his couch and pulled a blanket up over me. He set a 
glass of water down on the table and sat down near my head, petting my hair until I had cried 
myself out. 
 
I hiccupped and pulled the blanket under my chin, taking comfort in its softness and the spicy 
smell of Edward that emanated from it until I remembered what I'd overheard the previous 
evening. I wondered if this was the scene of his orgy yesterday and sniffed the blanket for any 
hint of sex. 
 
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked. 
 
No, I didn't. Well, yes, I did. I desperately wanted to tell someone the whole sordid story. No 
one-not Charlie, not even the prosecutors-knew everything. But I couldn't. I felt pathetic enough 
for crying my eyes out on my next door neighbor's couch; I didn't want to put him in danger by 
actually telling him anything. And why would Edward want to listen to me whine anyway? I was 

just some overemotional girl snotting up his furniture. 
 
"I'm sorry, Edward." I sniffled. "I'm fine. I think I'm just hormonal or something. Sorry to be 
such a bother to you." I stood up, wishing I could take the blanket with me. "Thank y-" 
 
Edward pulled me right back down next to him on the couch and held my hand, grazing the back 
of it with his thumb. "I'm a good listener, Maureen," he murmured. "You're obviously upset." 
 
When Edward called me 'Maureen,' Garrett's words from yesterday came back to me-
specifically, the story that Charlie had told him – that I had a boyfriend who hurt me. Everything 
in me ached to talk to someone, and it wasn't a complete lie. It just wasn't the whole truth. 
 
I wrapped the blanket around my shoulders and leaned into Edward's side with a sigh. If I got 
through this without slipping up and telling him too much, it would be a miracle. 
 
"I moved here to get away from an old boyfriend," I said, my voice low and full of tears. "He hit 
me." 
 
That part was true. The look on Jake's face when he punched me in the jaw had been one I never 
imagined him capable of. He was so cold, so unemotional, as if hurting me had been a means to 
an end. He wanted the stupid codes, and I was dumb enough to fall for his act. 
 
"Don't think I won't hurt you worse than this," Jake had threatened, grabbing me roughly by my 
skinny biceps and dragging me from the floor where I had fallen. 
 
I was shocked into silence, unable to scream. It wouldn't have helped anyway; we were secluded 
at his late parents' cabin. A hysterical giggle bubbled up my throat as I realized what a cliché I 
was – the dumb girl taken in by a charming, handsome man and then lured to the woods where 
no one would hear my screams. My jaw ached from his blow, and my legs didn't seem to want to 
work. 
 
He threw me into a wooden chair in the corner of the living room and slapped me. "Give me the 
goddamned codes!" 
 
I didn't want to die, so I did as he asked. The very idea that Jake could have killed me, let alone 
hurt me, still seemed bizarre, even now that he had set loose... 
 
The feeling of Edward's arms around me brought me out of my memories. He rocked me gently, 
touching my hair gently. 
 
"I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," he said over and over. Finally, he turned me to face him. "Are you 
okay? I mean, he didn't cause any permanent damage?" 
 
Well, yes, he had ruined my entire life. But I had gotten out of Philadelphia and avoided serious 
harm. Jake let me go when I gave him what he wanted, which proved that he was not as smart as 
he thought he was. I immediately found the nearest internet café, some hole in the wall with one 

computer just a few miles from the cabin, and changed all the codes while I wondered why he 
hadn't used them yet to transfer the money and debated whether I should head to the closest 
police station or to Philly. Putting some distance between me and Jake seemed like a good idea, 
so I took the three hour drive back to Philadelphia, the whole time crying and looking in the 
rearview mirror in case he had figured it out and was following me. When I got back to town, I 
stopped at the first precinct I came to. Jake must have thought I'd be too scared to do anything 
other than just cower in my apartment... like I was doing now. Or, more precisely, cowering in 
Edward's apartment. 
 
"No, I'm fine," I lied. "I'm just trying to pick up my life and move on." 
 
"Is he looking for you?" 
 
I didn't know how to answer that. If I said yes, he'd want to know what Jake looked like, which 
didn't matter, because Jake wasn't the one coming after me. I didn't want to say no either, for fear 
he would be less careful about guarding my identity. 
 
I shrugged. "Not that I know of... but I'm not sure, and I'd like to keep a low profile, just in case." 
 
That seemed like a good fib. 
 
"Do you want to tell me about him?" Edward asked. 
 
No... yes. But I couldn't. I couldn't tell Edward anything about Jake. 
 
I smiled at Edward with as much conviction as I could muster and shook my head. I grabbed the 
glass of water and waited nervously, waiting to see if Edward would let it drop. Much to my 
surprise, he did. 
 
"We all have secrets we keep, Mo," he said quietly. "If you ever want to tell me the story, I 
promise to listen, and whatever it is, I promise that it stays just between us." 
 
His light green eyes were so sincere; I wondered what secrets he was keeping. I thought of the 
gun in the duffel bag at my feet, and hoped that, whatever his demons were was, they weren't as 
bad as my own. 

 

 

4. 

 

"Ms. Swan, please state your full name." 
 
The prosecutor stood in front of me with a slight smile on her face. We had rehearsed this a few 
times. Just be honest and open, she had said. Just tell the truth. Easy for her to say – the man she 

slept with, had a relationship with, the same man who had hit her repeatedly and threatened her 
with worse things, wasn't sitting across the room staring daggers at her. 
 
I cleared my throat; the sound seemed to reverberate throughout the courtroom. "My name is 
Isabella Marie Swan." 
 
"What is your profession?" 
 
"I'm the Manager of Corporate Accounts for Mountain Green Bank." My palms were sweaty, 
and my right leg jackhammered away out of nervousness. I was sure the entire courtroom could 
hear the toe of my shoe tapping lightly against the front of the witness box. 
 
"What is your relationship with Jacob Black?" 
 
Hot bile rose in my throat. I closed my eyes and tried to keep the vomit back. The prosecutor 
would not appreciate it if I blew chunks all over her Versace suit. 
 
"Jacob is… er, was my boyfriend." 
 
"And how long did you date?"  
 
"Six months," I answered. Jake glared at me, his black eyes flashing in warning. I tried not to 
look at him. 
 
"What is Jacob Black's profession?" 
 
"He's a computer programmer." 
 
"Tell me what happened on July 12, 2008." Fuck. I hoped that I could get through this without 
peeing my pants on the stand. 
 
"Jake said that he had planned a weekend away for us at his parents' cabin in the Poconos. I 
picked him up that morning and everything seemed normal. When we got to the cabin, he seemed 
a little nervous. About an hour after we arrived, he received a phone call. He asked me to come 
sit with him on the couch and said that he needed some information from me." 
 
"And then what happened?" 
 
He ripped my life apart, but I didn't say that. Instead, I took a deep breath and said, "He started 
talking about my job. He said that if I worked with him, we could both be very rich. He wanted 
me to give them the access codes to the corporate accounts I work with. I wouldn't do it." 
 
"What did Jacob do when you refused?" 
 
I woke up screaming. Dreaming about the trial wasn't something I had done in a while, and of 
this I was glad. During the court case and right after Jake had been sentenced, I had nightmares 

nearly every day. Sometimes it was just the trial itself, but sometimes Jake punched me in the 
jaw again. Every once in a while I dreamt that I had refused to give him the codes and he 
actually killed me. 
 
My co-workers had been great. They rallied around me and made sure that I was doing alright. 
Even work had been good. They weren't thrilled that I had given Jake the codes, but it was 
understood in the banking industry that if your life is at stake, you give the guy what he wants. I 
still had my job. 
 
After Jake had been in prison for about a month, the dreams subsided. But then strange things 
started happening. I had the feeling I was being watched. My dog went missing. I found a note 
on my car one morning with vague threats. It never occurred to me to connect any of it to Jake–
as far as I was concerned, that entire episode was over. Jake was behind bars. 
 
That's when Charlie showed up at my doorstep. Within 48 hours I was packed and on a plane to 
San Francisco. I wanted to tell Charlie to get the hell out, but when he arrived with the news that 
Jake had hired someone to come after me… well, I listened to him. 
 
But now the dreams had returned. The sound of my shrieks lingered in the quiet stillness of my 
bedroom. I clutched my throat as I bolted upright in bed, the sheets wrapped tightly around my 
legs. 
 
Each day passed with roughly the same routine. I'd wake up screaming, calm myself down, 
reluctantly get out of bed, and then do the drills that Garrett had assigned to me. Usually right 
around the time I'd get in the shower, Edward would start moaning and groaning loudly next 
door. I would then turn up the music to drown out his sexcapades and try not to think about 
exactly what was going on in his apartment. Work at the dispatch office began at noon, and I'd 
spend the next six hours avoiding Felix's hand on my ass. Sometimes I'd see Alice or Edward in 
passing, but my nights were spent cowering – either in my bed with tears or on the couch with 
ice cream. 
 
I continued to meet with Garrett again at the boxing gym. I tried my best, honestly I did… but I 
just couldn't understand the benefit to learning how to fall. Garrett just rolled his eyes at me and 
told me that learning to fall without hurting myself was crucial. He said it was one of the most 
important things he could teach me. I just shrugged and did as he told me. 
 
Alice knocked on my door early Saturday morning. 
 
"Let me in!" she yelled. "I'm hungry! Come have breakfast with me!" For a little girl, she had a 
big voice. 
 
She looked ridiculous when I flung open the door. A tight tee shirt with a print of fetal bones on 
it stretched over her big belly, and her tiny stick-like legs poked out from under a small black 
skirt. She was wearing a giant, furry pink hat and matching boots. She was like the girl Yeti of 
Southern California. 
 

"Come on, Mo. Tell me you couldn't go for some pancakes. I've been dreaming of hash browns 
since two in the morning, and I hate to eat alone." 
 
Was she wearing glitter eye shadow? 
 
My stomach rumbled at her mention of food. I had been so depressed since the move that I hadn't 
been very interested in eating. I'd lost three pounds without even trying. 
 
"Okay, fine," I said, pretending to be put out before smiling at her a bit. 
 
She dragged me down the block by the hand, and I was shocked that no one even so much as 
gave her an odd look. Walking down the block in a crazy pink fur hat and boots would have 
meant snickers and whispers in Philadelphia, but here it seemed totally normal. 
 
Alice shoved me into a diner and pushed in front of me to run to a booth in the corner by a 
window. I looked at her curiously. 
 
"Hey, it's the best seat in the house," she said, giggling. 
 
I sat down opposite her and as I reached for a plasticized menu, the salt shaker tipped over. No 
one needed to know how nuts I was, so I waited until Alice seemed to be engrossed in the menu 
before throwing a few grains over my shoulder surreptitiously. 
 
"I saw that," Alice murmured, her forehead wrinkled and her eyes still drawn to the menu. 
 
The waitress shuffled over to the table, her red hair piled high on her head. "What can I get you 
two?" 
 
Alice immediately attacked the server with a million questions. Was the flour for the pancakes 
locally grown and milled? Was everything in the fruit salad picked within a hundred miles? Did 
the cheese come from hormone-free cows? I tuned her out, and eventually there was silence as 
Alice finalized her order. 
 
"I'll have Eggs Benedict," I said. I always had Eggs Benedict at diners. 
 
"You didn't even ask if the eggs were from free range chickens." Alice glared at me and pouted. 
 
I murmured a half-hearted apology and pushed the remaining grains of spilled salt with my 
finger. 
 
"You're superstitious," Alice stated. 
 
I nodded and tried not to stare at her hat. 
 
"My grandma used to say that to find out the sex of a baby, you should tie a wedding ring to a 
string and hold it over the palm of a pregnant lady," Alice said with a sad look on her face. "If 

the ring swings in a straight line, it'll be a boy… otherwise, it's a girl." 
 
"Do you know what you're having yet?" I felt awkward. Alice didn't wear a wedding ring, and I'd 
never seen any guys around her apartment. 
 
"A boy," Alice whispered. I couldn't tell if she was happy or sad. 
 
"Mazel tov," I said. "Have you thought of any names?" 
 
"What's your dad's name?" Alice asked. "I've been asking everyone that for weeks," she added as 
I visibly stiffened. 
 
"You don't want to name your kid after my dad," I said hastily. Yeah, that would be quite a 
legacy Alice would pass on. He'd be doomed to a gold tooth, a middle-aged paunch, a gross 
toothpick-chewing habit, and a penchant for criminal activity… not to mention that whole pesky 
'abandon your family, hit your wife' thing. 
 
"Sounds like your family life was about as good as mine was," Alice intoned, but she didn't 
elaborate. She shook her head a bit and then plastered a fake-looking smile on her face, before 
singing the praises of being pregnant. 
 
"Are you nervous at all?" I asked. I had to admit that I was curious about how Alice turned up 
pregnant. Well, not how… I was familiar with the mechanics. But I wondered about her story –
why she moved away from Kansas, who the father was, and all the rest. Considering my own 
situation, I wasn't willing to pry. 
 
"Sure, I am," she said, still manically grinning. "This is my first baby, and I'm all alone. But I'm 
excited too. Babies are so sweet. And the smell! My god, I could just eat them up. Do you want 
babies one day?" 
 
I was worried about surviving the month. Living long enough to have a relationship and get 
knocked up wasn't something I thought much about. Still, the idea of having a tiny baby in my 
arms wasn't unattractive. 
 
"I don't kn -" 
 
"Edward!" Alice's squeal interrupted me from what would no doubt have been a wistful diatribe 
about how I wasn't in the right place in my life to think about motherhood. I turned to see 
Edward striding toward us with a tall, blonde man following him. 
 
"Hey, do you mind if we join you?" Edward asked, smiling at me. Even though he had been very 
nice to me when I cried on his couch, all the sex noises continually coming from his apartment 
made me unable to look him in the eye. Yesterday, I swore I heard him yell something about 
wearing a strap on. 
 
"Don't be silly," Alice said, obviously excited – I was sure my company wasn't the most 

scintillating part of her day so far. "Scoot over, Mo." 
 
I slid further into the booth and Edward sat down next to me, his friend sitting next to Alice. 
Edward slung his arm across my shoulders and gave them a little squeeze. It felt nice… 
comforting. Something about being around Edward was relaxing in a way I couldn't explain, and 
this made me tense, like I expected to get so complacent that I'd say something I shouldn't. 
 
"Alice, Mo, this is Jasper. Jasper, meet Alice and Maureen. They live in my building." 
 
Jasper waved shyly to us both as Alice bounced up and down in her seat, her eyes shining. 
 
"Oh my god, I know you! You're a stripper at the Nob Hill Theatre!" Alice waved her hands 
around crazily. 
 
Groaning, Jasper blushed a deep crimson while Edward pushed himself back against the booth 
looking shocked. 
 
"What are you doing hanging out in gay strip clubs?" Edward sounded horrified. I leaned 
forward, not wanting to miss anything; this could be the most innocent excitement I'd have for 
months. 
 
Alice just giggled. "Oh, some of the other massage therapists like to go there every now and 
then. They dragged me along last week with the promise of really stellar hot wings." 
 
"Well, they do have good wings," Jasper admitted. He brushed his chin length, blonde hair out of 
his face and smiled. He was really very good-looking; I wondered what his body looked like 
under his clothes. Was he the hot kind of stripper seen on television, or was he like the female 
strippers at seedy clubs with stretch marks and floppy boobs? 
 
Alice belted out a verse of "What You Need" and said, "Yeah, I remember you because everyone 
else was dancing to Bell Biv Devoe and shit, but you danced to INXS. Nice banana hammock." 
 
Edward let out a sharp, barking laugh and sunk into the seat. 
 
"No, I'm serious," Alice giggled. "It was silver and sparkly. I approve." 
 
"Thanks," Jasper said, the flush still coloring his cheeks. "I'm actually a classically-trained 
pianist. It's just that the money is better in stripping." 
 
"Well, you're very good. You're the only dancer there with any sense of rhythm." Alice motioned 
to the waitress for more coffee. She was drinking decaf because of the baby, but she had already 
gone through three cups. 
 
Jasper snorted and looked up at Edward. "I wouldn't say that's true. In fact-" 
 
"So Alice, what are your rates for massage?" Edward interjected. 

 
There was some a weird undercurrent passing between Edward and Jasper, but I ignored it. The 
last thing I needed was more tension – I just didn't want to get involved. Alice talked about her 
sliding scale rates, and it occurred to me that with all the sex Edward was having he probably 
needed a massage. No one could come fifteen times in an hour and not have some sort of lasting 
damage. 
 
Edward and Jasper placed their orders, and our food came out. The Eggs Benedict was strange, 
the hollandaise sauce just a little too orange, the eggs just a little too cooked. I cut everything 
together and sopped up the sauce and the little bit of yolk with my toast, and ate around the 
rubbery egg white. 
 
"You should eat, Mo," Edward whispered into my ear. Jasper and Alice were deep in 
conversation. "I know you're upset, but you have to eat." 
 
I nodded. "I know. I will. I just… I don't like the egg yolk when it's cooked." 
 
His light green eyes peered down at me with amusement. "Will you eat some of my pancakes?" 
 
"I don't want to eat your breakfast!" I exclaimed. 
 
"I didn't say you could eat all of them," he laughed. "But I am capable of sharing." 
 
I nodded and smiled. "Yeah, okay." 
 
"So, I noticed that you're leaving every day around noon. Did you find a job?" 
 
My head bobbed again before I took a sip of coffee. "I did. I'm working down the block at that 
bike messenger place." 
 
"How are you liking it?" Edward asked, fraying a napkin with his long fingers. 
 
"Oh, it's alright," I said. "The owner is kind of disgusting, but it's a job." 
 
He laughed, but there was something off about it. It seemed almost bitter. "Yeah, I can 
empathize." 

 

5.  

 

 
I was almost grateful when the pounding on my door woke me before my dreams made me start 
screaming. It was entirely too early for company, but I figured Edward or Alice had an 
emergency. Perhaps Alice needed a cup of sugar, or maybe Edward needed… condoms. 
 

I threw on my mother's old chenille robe and padded to the door. What I saw when I looked 
through the peephole made my blood run cold. The man outside was massive, his neck so thick it 
was almost as if he had no neck at all. His tight, black tee shirt stretched over his muscular chest. 
He rolled his eyes and raised his fist to knock again. 
 
The hammering on my door was so loud as I stood just on the other side that I squeaked and 
jumped back. How had he found me? Should I call Charlie? What would it matter? Charlie was 
on the other side of the country; there was nothing he could do. 
 
I very nearly ran back into my bedroom to get the baseball bat, but stopped when the man 
pummeling my door shouted, "Maureen? I'm Emmett. Edward sent me. I used to live here." 
 
My heart was pounding as I swung the door open, clutching my robe shut around me. I probably 
should have demanded some identification, but the relief that it wasn't some hired killer sent to 
fuck me up was overwhelming. 
 
Emmett stood just outside the door, a bag in his arms. 
 
"Sorry if I woke you." He ran his hand over his short, brown hair. "I have to be to the restaurant 
early today, and Edward threatened to castrate me if I didn't fix your wall within a week." The 
sheepish look on his face offset the intimidating way his biceps bulged. 
 
He cleared his throat, and I realized that I had just been standing in the doorway with an idiotic 
look on my face. I shook my head ruefully and laughed. 
 
"Oh, uh, yeah. Come in." My feet made squeaking noises as I shuffled back to allow him to 
enter. "Sorry." 
 
Among the petite furniture in my living room, Emmett seemed extra huge. He looked around and 
smiled. "This joint looks way better than when I lived here. Looks good." 
 
"Thanks," I said. "Can I get you some coffee or anything?" 
 
"No, no. I just came to fix your wall. Sorry about that… I didn't count on my, er, handiwork 
failing so quickly. Stupid earthquakes," he joked, wagging his eyebrows at me. 
 
I waited for him to say something about me being naked in the hallway, but he just walked into 
the bedroom. He got to work immediately, positioning a wall patch. 
 
"How did you put a hole in the wall?" I asked as I watched him. 
 
He laughed dryly. "I was pounding on the wall to shut Edward up. He gets a little loud." 
 
"I noticed," I muttered. I wanted to so badly to ask Emmett about the sex noises, but it seemed 
kind of rude… and I knew that it would get back to Edward. Besides, I wanted to fly under the 
radar, ask no probing questions and answer no questions in return. 

 
I thought it was harmless enough to make small talk with Emmett, though, as he smoothed on the 
joint compound. 
 
"You work in a restaurant?" I remembered that he'd mentioned something about that when he 
first came in. 
 
"Yep. I'm the pastry chef at Azie." His tongue was caught between his teeth as he spread the 
compound over the patch. "You should come by some time. Dessert's on me; it's the least I can 
do." 
 
I expected to hear that he was a bouncer or maybe a waiter. He definitely didn't fit my image of a 
pastry chef. I couldn't quite envision Emmett in kitchen whites whipping cake batter or making 
crème brulee. 
 
He put down his putty knife and stepped back from the wall. "Okay, this has got to dry, but I'll 
come back after my shift to sand it down and paint it, if that's alright. Will you be home later?" 
 
Emmett was clearly mistaking me for someone with a real life. It was Sunday. At best, I could 
expect a call from Charlie to make sure I was still breathing. At worst, I'd curl up on the couch 
with my photo albums and a bottle of wine. 
 
I nodded. "Sure. What time should I expect you?" 
 
"Um, maybe around six? I'm only doing pastries for brunch today. I'll even bring you a little 
something. Rosalie says my tiramisu is the reason she fell in love with me." 
 
"Rosalie is your girlfriend?" I tried to picture the woman who would be engaged to a giant pastry 
chef. Big guys like that always went for tiny women; I imagined that she would be short, maybe 
as petite as Alice. 
 
"My fiancée. We just got engaged – it's the reason I moved out of this apartment," he said, a silly 
smile on his face. 
 
I remembered feeling like that… so happy just because I was in a relationship and sure I had 
someone good in my life. Afraid that I might start bawling like a little girl, I turned away and 
tried to get control of my trembling chin. 
 
"Congratulations. " I hoped that I managed not to sound morose. 
 
"Oh, thanks!" He followed me out of the bedroom. "Alright, I'll see you a little later then. It was 
really great to meet you." He patted me on the shoulder as he passed me and opened the door. 
With a little wave, he left; I sagged down onto the couch and sighed heavily. 
 
Emmett had been gone less than twenty minutes when another knock sounded at my door, this 
time less insistent. I pulled myself off the couch and looked through the peephole again and saw 

a tall, thin woman with reddish hair in a black sweater set and pearls. I had no idea who she was, 
but decided she that unless she planned to garrote me with her necklace, she didn't appear to be 
much of a threat. Doubting Jake could afford to hire such sophisticated killers, I opened the door 
a crack. 
 
"Yes?" 
 
"Oh, dear, I'm sorry to bother you," she said, her voice high and breathy. "I'm Edward's mother. 
You know, your next door neighbor?" 
 
I opened the door wider; I should have recognized her as such – she had the same shade of hair 
as Edward. 
 
"How can I help you?" I asked. 
 
She indicated the casserole dish in her hands. "Oh, you know how boys are. He told me he'd be 
home, so I decided to make sure he had something to eat. Would you mind if I left this here for 
him?" 
 
"Of course," I answered, gesturing at her to come in. "I'll put it in my refrigerator." 
 
"No, honey, I've got it." She hustled into my kitchen and clucked when she saw that my 
refrigerator only contained vodka, wine, and a tub of cottage cheese. "Maybe I should bring you 
a casserole, too." 
 
She turned and extended her hand. "I'm Elizabeth. Elizabeth Cullen." 
 
Her hand was warm, and I could feel the bird-like bones of her fingers as I enclosed her hand in 
mine. "My name is Maureen Jackson." 
 
"You must be the new neighbor," she said. "Edward told me Emmett had moved in with his 
girlfriend, and that a pretty girl had taken his place." 
 
I ducked my head in embarrassment and unnecessarily smoothed the fabric of my robe. 
 
For the second time that morning, I offered coffee. Edward's mother was so nice, and missing 
Renee made me want to spend time with someone so maternal. 
 
"Do you take sugar, Mrs. Cullen?" I asked. "I only have this crappy Coffee Mate stuff for 
creamer." 
 
"Black is good, Maureen, and please call me Liz. Everyone does." She took the coffee cup I 
offered and followed me out to the living room. She sat on the couch, just in the spot I had been 
in when she knocked. 
 
"So, Maureen, tell me a little about yourself." 

 
Oh god. I was hoping we could talk about her or San Francisco, or even where she shopped. The 
last thing I wanted to do was lie to the woman who was fulfilling my mommy needs. 
 
"I, uh, I moved here from New York," I stuttered. "Have you ever been there?" I prayed that she 
would launch into a story about some long ago trip. 
 
"No," she said, and my heart sank. "We don't travel very much. Ed is an accountant, and I own a 
flower shop. We just never have the time to get away. The last time we took a vacation was, 
goodness, ten years ago. We rented a Winnebago and drove up the coast. Edward was in college, 
so we thought it would be a good time." 
 
"Where did you go?" I asked. There was something about the way she squinted her eyes when 
she smiled that reminded me of Renee. I wanted to curl up in her lap and cry. 
 
"Oh… let's see. We followed Highway 1 right up, so we drove through Sonoma and stopped at a 
few wineries. Big Sur was beautiful." She laughed and said, "Ed wanted to stop at the nude 
beaches – there are about five along the drive." 
 
Liz took a sip of coffee and continued. "On the way back, we drove past San Francisco and 
stopped at the garlic festival in Gilroy." 
 
"Where's Gilroy?" I asked. 
 
"Oh, it's about 80 miles south of the city. The garlic festival is wonderful. If you get the chance 
this summer, I highly recommend it. Edward tells us he's going to go every year, but he can't get 
the time off from being a psychic." 
 
She said it so nonchalantly it almost didn't register. What? Edward was a psychic? 
 
Liz must have noticed my bewildered look because she immediately laughed again and said, 
"Oh, don't worry, dear – Edward isn't really a psychic. He just works as one of those stupid 
telephone occult advisers." She used her fingers to air quote when she said 'occult advisers.' The 
way she raised her eyebrows was amusing. "No actual psychic ability is needed, apparently." 
 
I laughed incredulously. "Edward is Miss Cleo? How does one break into the world of 
psychics?" 
 
She laughed again and laid a hand on my arm. "It seems it's as simple as answering an ad in the 
paper. He likes it because he can work from home, and he says the money is good. It gives him 
flexibility for his writing." 
 
She looked at her watch and jumped up. "Oh, I have to run! I have a hair appointment in an 
hour." She turned to me and enveloped me in a hug so warm that I nearly clutched her to me. 
"Thank you for the coffee, Maureen. It was so good to meet you." 
 

I walked her to the door, wishing so much that she would stay. Promising to give Edward the 
dish she left, I closed the door behind her. 
 
The air in my apartment was saturated with Liz's perfume, something not unlike what my own 
mother wore. Despite Charlie's existence, I felt very much like an orphan. Renee's parents had 
died long ago, and I never knew any of Charlie's family. He had been hatched, rather than born, 
as far as I was concerned. 
 
While I had seen a million photos of Renee as a child and growing up, I had never had the proof 
that Charlie was ever a child. I could visualize a miniature Charlie, with his slicked back hair 
(what remained of it) and flabby belly hanging over his belt, stalking around the streets of 
Philadelphia, but couldn't bring to mind an image of what Charlie might have actually looked 
like as a real child. I could only assume he must have resembled my own childhood photos – I 
looked nothing like my blonde-haired, blue-eyed mother. I tried to make up a pudgy-faced little 
boy with brown, wavy hair and dark brown eyes, but it wouldn't come together. I couldn't even 
conceptualize the grandparents I never knew who would have produced a man like Charlie. 
 
There were no aunts or uncles, no long-lost cousins. No godparents whatsoever to speak of. My 
only family was Charlie, and the knowledge that I was virtually alone in the world was 
overwhelming. 
 
The tears started forming in my eyes, but I was sick of crying. Sick to death of it. It seemed like 
all I did was cry, work, and hide. For the first time, I was looking forward to my session with 
Garrett tomorrow simply so I could hit something. Feeling sorry for myself wasn't going to 
change anything. Learning to fight probably wouldn't change anything either, but at least I was 
doing something productive. Sitting around on my couch with a pint of Chunky Monkey was 
fruitless. 
 
I heard Edward's door open and close next door, so I took a deep breath and grabbed up his 
mother's dish to deliver to him. 
 
"Oh yeah," he said after letting me in. "My mother mentioned she dropped something at your 
place for me. Sorry about that." He somehow looked less weighted than normal, as if there were 
suddenly one less burden on his shoulders. "She also told me I should share with the class 
because the cute neighbor girl had more booze in her fridge than food." He quirked an eyebrow. 
 
"It's probably a good thing she didn't look in my freezer," I said. "It's stocked with ice cream and 
ice cream only." 
 
"Am I going to have to accompany you to the grocery store and force you to eat?" he teased. 
Remembering his liver pate from the first night we met, maybe I could just finagle an 
arrangement to share whatever he cooked. I could steal into his apartment each night and raid his 
refrigerator. 
 
I followed him into his kitchen, and he preheated his oven before offering me some tea. With 
some surprise, I found myself accepting. I wanted to hang out. More than that, I needed to be in 

his company. The idea of just spilling my guts passed through my head, but I couldn't do that to 
him. Edward didn't need the added burden of my crazy, dangerous bullshit. 
 
"So, Liz tells me you're a telephone psychic," I said casually. 
 
The set of Edward's shoulders was tense, and his laugh didn't quite sound right. "Oh, uh, yeah. 
I'm writing a novel, but I needed some kind of work I could do at home." 
 
"What are you writing about?" I asked. "Is it fiction?" He clearly didn't want to talk about work, 
but I figured he'd like to talk about writing. Renee had loved to write short stories and talked 
about her plots with endless enthusiasm. . 
 
The change of topic worked. Edward brightened considerably and turned toward the cabinet to 
pull out a couple of mugs and some teabags. 
 
"It is fiction," he confirmed with a quick smile. "My main character is a doctor who kills a 
patient on the operating table. The story follows him as he learns to live with what he's done." 
 
"How long have you been working on it?" 
 
"About a year. I'm about halfway through it. The final scene is already written, but Dr. Wolf just 
isn't cooperating with me lately." He ran his hand over his close-cropped hair and grinned at me, 
adjusting his glasses. 
 
Despite the sharp lines of his face, his smile lit up his features , and the more time I spent with 
him, the more attractive I found him. When I first met him in the hall, I couldn't quite bring 
myself to think of him as handsome. Striking, yes. But the angles and points of his face made 
him look to me like a skinny fox. 
 
In the late afternoon light that shone through Edward's window, illuminating his dark, reddish 
hair and pale skin, however, he was almost beautiful. 
 
I settled back into his couch and followed along as he talked about the twists and turns of his 
plot. He served me a plate of his mother's casserole – a delicious mix of cheese, pasta, and 
vegetables – and told me funny stories about his mother and father. 
 
For the first time in months, I genuinely felt unafraid. 
 

 

 

6. 

 

 
"We're going to do what?" I asked incredulously. The gym smelled particularly gross – like a 

cross between old, sweaty socks and stale corn chips. Garrett seemed completely oblivious to 
both the stench and my doubt. 
 
Garrett sighed. "We're going to work on takedowns today." 
 
He wanted me to somehow wrestle him to the ground if he attacked me. It seemed ludicrous – he 
outweighed me about a hundred pounds and he had muscles on top of muscles. 
 
"My 80 year old mother can do it, and I'm sure you can do it too. Let's start with frontal attacks," 
he said, a smirk on his face. 
 
By the end of the hour I completely understood why he'd been so adamant about teaching me 
how to fall correctly; I spent at least half the session on my ass. Without his prior instruction, I 
probably would have been black and blue from head to toe. I would try to do what he told me, 
but he'd just bat me out of the way and I'd fall over. 
 
Eventually, I stopped trying to pull away when he grabbed my tee shirt or a handful of hair. The 
next time he snatched my shirt, I grasped his hand for leverage, stepped in, and punched him in 
the throat with every bit of power I had. Without even thinking about it, I pushed him so he 
tripped backwards over my leg. I was so flabbergasted that he was on the hard ground, I failed to 
realize he was gasping for air. I squeaked with excitement and did a small happy dance. 
 
It took a minute, but Garrett got to his feet with a delighted grin, rubbing his throat. "That was 
very good, Maureen! You're finally getting some muscle memory on these throws. We'll go over 
this one again at the next session… and I think I'll start wearing a cup." He laughed and waved 
me off. 
 
I felt strong as I left the gym, not like the weak girl I had always thought myself to be. My 
mother would have been incredibly proud of me, and I had to admit that I was proud of myself. 
Muggers of the world, beware. 
 
The realization that I wasn't doing this to stop a simple mugging settled over me with a dark 
sense of dread. Every day I was still in danger. Every day Jake's goon could find me and do 
horrible things to me. The gun Charlie insisted I have still sat in the duffel bag buried deep in my 
closet. Should I learn to use it? I just couldn't see myself squeezing the trigger. Guns scared the 
shit out of me. 
 
There was a purple sticky note from Alice stuck to my front door with her phone number on it. I 
called as I fixed myself a cup of coffee. 
 
"Alice? What's up?" I asked when she answered. 
 
"Oh, hey, Mo! Nothing, really. Some of my friends are going out, and I wanted to know if you'd 
like to come along?" 
 
The small victory with Garrett at the gym was still coursing through my veins, and I felt good, as 

if perhaps I could have at least a somewhat normal life. Maybe I could have friends. At the very 
least, I could go out for one night. I could try to have fun. 
 
"Sure, Alice, that would be fun," I said. The noise Alice then made was so high-pitched, I was 
fairly sure only dogs could hear her. 
 
"Yay! I'll come by and pick you up in about thirty minutes. We're going to Nob Hill Theatre, so 
don't worry about getting dressed – no one will be looking at you," Alice chortled. "I think Jasper 
works tonight, so maybe he'll throw in a free lap dance or something." 
 
I hung up and quickly jumped in the shower. Even though I would be in a gay bar, there was no 
reason to stink. My session with Garrett had left me slightly tangy smelling. I suspected the stank 
of the gym had sunk deeply into my pores. The last thing I wanted to do was smell like funk. 
 
Getting ready was easy enough. I threw on a pair of jeans and a black, scoop neck tee, tossed my 
hair into a ponytail, and that was that. Having never been to a strip club before – gay or straight – 
I wasn't sure what the protocol was in terms of tipping, but figured it wouldn't matter to the 
strippers if it was a man or a woman slipping singles into their g-strings. Thanks to being paid in 
cash at the dispatch office, I had an overabundance of one dollar bills. I scooped up a stack and 
tucked it into my wallet. 
 
The phone interrupted my careful application of tinted Chapstick; I never wore much makeup. 
 
"Everything okay?" Charlie asked quietly. I could hear voices and the clink of glasses in the 
background. It seemed strange that he would call me in the middle of a bar or something, but 
then it occurred to me that he was doing business. Charlie's clientele, from what I knew, were 
low life drunks. 
 
"Yeah, Charlie, everything is fine. Felix is handsy, but if I move fast enough I can usually avoid 
him." Yesterday he tried to stick his gross tongue in my ear until I reminded him that my father 
was supposed to be Charlie's bookie. 
 
Charlie grunted. "I'll make a call. How are things going with Garrett?" 
 
I smiled a little to myself. "Okay. He taught me how to fall, and this morning I punched him in 
the throat and threw him down." 
 
Charlie's wheezing, coughing laugh was loud in my ear. "Good for you, kid," he said. "Way to 
go." 
 
"Any news?" I asked. 
 
There was a pause, and then Charlie said, "No, not really." 
 
"What does that mean?" The panic crept into my voice. Not really? What the hell? Was I about 
to be taken out by a deranged hit man? 

 
"Calm down, Bells, it's nothi-" 
 
"You don't get to call me 'Bells,' Charlie! Don't you dare!" I seethed. My mother had called me 
Bells. It was our thing. Charlie was just… I didn't know, but he wasn't my dad. Hell, I barely 
considered him a blood relative. 
 
"Alright, Bella," he said slowly. "What I mean is that I think I know who's on your tail. Been 
asking some questions around town, checking flights." 
 
My familial outrage was immediately forgotten at the news that whoever this person was, he had 
been trying to sniff out my flight arrangements. Charlie had been able to get forged identification 
documents for me at the last minute, and I did fly out under the name of Maureen Jackson… but 
there was surveillance video at the airport. How hard could it be to bribe someone for the tapes? 
 
"His name is Sam Uley," Charlie continued. "Some low rent drug dealer that Black had some 
connections to." 
 
My hand immediately went to my horseshoe necklace, rubbing furiously. Great, I had a drug 
dealer hunting me. I resolved to work twice as hard with Garrett to learn the throws and blocks. 
 
"Within the next few hours I'll be emailing you all the information I have on this guy. That 
includes a photo. You memorize everything I send. Be alert. As far as I know, he has no idea 
where you are… but I want you to consider changing your look. Dye and cut your hair. Maybe 
some different colored contact lenses." 
 
"Don't you think that'll attract attention, Charlie? I mean, my neighbors, the guys at the dispatch 
office… don't you think that'll be weird?" 
 
"Women dye their hair all the time," Charlie said gruffly. "Just say that you want a new start, 
new you, whatever." 
 
I couldn't imagine myself with different hair, but it seemed like a good idea. Maybe I could ask 
Alice what salon she went to. 
 
"Oh, and Bella? I made arrangements with an associate for you to learn to use that gun. I'll email 
his info to you too." 
 
Shit. I really didn't want to deal with that. But I agreed, and he hung up, telling me to be safe. On 
some level, it was comforting to know that Charlie was looking out for me, but I was still so 
angry at him for… for just everything. It was unfair that he was my stand-in for Renee. I wanted 
my mother back. 
 
I was still ruminating about my bitterness and what color to dye my hair when Alice knocked at 
my door. She looked ridiculously cute – a vee neck black dress skimmed to just above her knees, 
her legs were covered in black and white striped stockings, with a pair of clunky Mary Janes on 

her feet. Her hair was done in Marcel waves with a funny little curl by her right ear. I 
immediately felt dumpier than normal. 
 
Alice's face lit up and she started babbling about her friends that we were meeting. It was a 
welcome distraction from everything else. Charlie's email could wait. I needed to have a single 
night where it wasn't all about me and this Sam guy that was looking for me. I needed to have a 
beer out with someone who seemed to want to be my friend. 
 
She pushed me into a cab and gave the driver the address. 
 
"It's a shame Jasper's gay," she said, her eyes dancing. "His body is insane. I swear, I wanted to 
lick his stomach muscles that night we saw him dance." 
 
"Alice!" I exclaimed. "You're pregnant!" 
 
She laughed and slapped her knee. "Pregnancy hormones are a bitch," she squeaked. "I want to 
hump every man I see. It's one of the few reasons I wish I had a husband or a boyfriend or 
something." 
 
Without even thinking, I said, "Why isn't the father here for you to hump, Alice?" I clapped my 
hand over my mouth, wishing I could take it back as Alice's smile faded. "Oh god, I'm so sorry. 
I'm such an ass." I couldn't believe I had been so insensitive. 
 
"Um… I don't know who the father is," she whispered, avoiding my wide eyes. She played with 
the hem of her dress and picked imaginary lint off her tights. 
 
"I'm sorry, this is so none of my business," I said. Not that I knew Alice very well, but she didn't 
exactly seem the type to sleep around indiscriminately. My heart broke at the look on her face, 
and I hoped that I could make it up to her. 
 
In what can only be described as perfect timing, the cab pulled up outside the club and Alice paid 
the fare. She got out and I slid across the seat to follow her. By the time I stood next to her, the 
smile was back on her face and it was as if I'd never stuck my foot in my mouth. 
 
I handed the cashier two fives to pay the cover for both Alice and me, and she led me to the bar 
inside to order a bottle of water. I asked for a pint of Guinness. The long, wooden bar stretched 
the length of one wall, and a small stage with a catwalk stood adjacent. There was an Asian man 
in a red g-string, suspenders, and a fireman's hat gyrating on stage to some Brittany Spears song. 
 
Several people waved to Alice from a table to the right of the catwalk, and she grabbed my wrist 
and pulled me through the crowd. Alice introduced me to everyone over the loud music; I didn't 
catch a single name. 
 
I nursed my beer and tried to ignore the bare asses that were parading around in front of me, 
wondering if Alice would ever speak to me again. 
 

"I wonder if they stuff their bikinis," Alice said into my ear. "Look at that guy." She indicated to 
a tall man with black hair. His package looked gigantic. As he thrust his hips at the man across 
the table from me, his penis appeared to flop solidly up and down. 
 
Her giggling grew louder as the man mistook her stare for interest. He moved closer and circled 
his hips within inches of her face. I slid a couple of ones from my wallet and tucked them into 
the strap of his g-string with a relieved grin. I was so happy that Alice didn't seem to hate me, I 
was willing to ignore the fact that something was obviously going on with her… more than just 
her pregnancy. 
 
He danced away from us, and Alice and I laughed. 
 
"Any sign of Jasper yet?" I asked. Alice had taken to calling him her 'gay boyfriend' over the 
course of the evening when she discussed him with the others at the table. They'd had a very nice 
talk at the diner the other day. 
 
She shook her head. No, but this guy," she indicated to the stage, "is almost done, I think. Maybe 
he'll come out next." 
 
"Alice, who does your hair?" I asked, thinking about how soon I could make the changes Charlie 
had suggested. 
 
She laughed. "I cut my own hair. I'm surprised you can't tell – it always looks completely bunged 
up." 
 
I was surprised. Her hair always looked awesome. Of course, I was not exactly on the cutting 
edge of hair trends; I dutifully got my locks trimmed twice a year and that was it." 
 
"I can cut your hair if you want," she offered. "I can't promise it'll be perfect, of course." 
 
I nodded eagerly. "Can you help me dye it too? I need to do something different, start over." 
 
She laughed ruefully. "I get it, Mo. Trust me, I do. I can't really touch the chemicals… the 
pregnancy, you know? But I'll definitely help." 
 
It felt good to rely on someone, a friend. 
 
"What are you doing tomorrow?" I asked. I wanted to get this over with as soon as possible. 
 
We talked a little about what I wanted to do, and Alice laughed at me when I suggested a 
platinum blonde mohawk. 
 
"We'll go to the beauty supply place tomorrow and look at colors," she suggested. "I think a pink 
streak would look pretty cool. After all, I've seen the people coming out of that dispatch office. 
You could shave your head and no one would think anything of it." 
 

The stripper on the stage exited with a wave, and Alice flashed me her crossed fingers. I laughed 
and shook my head. 
 
Among the cheesy pop songs, the next tune stood out. I nearly spit out a mouthful of beer when 
the Rolling Stones blared from the speakers. A man in a cowboy hat and a pair of faded, ripped 
jeans danced out on the stage, his back turned toward our table. "(I Can't Get No) Satisfacton" 
seemed louder as the words started, and the man turned around. 
 
Both Alice and I froze and then turned to each other with gaping jaws at the same time. 
 
It was Edward. 
 

 

7. 

 

 
Edward hadn't seen us. The lights shining hard onto the stage would probably keep him from 
noticing Alice and me, but when he got to the catwalk… well, I wasn't too sure. The spotlights 
seemed to blaze less brightly. On one hand, I felt like maybe I should leave. It seemed almost 
rude to watch Edward dance when he didn't know I was there ogling him. On the other hand, his 
ass looked amazing in those jeans and my own curiosity kept me rooted to my seat. 
 
His glasses were gone and so was his shirt. He was less bulky than a lot of the other strippers in 
the club; his muscles curved lithely over his frame in an almost catlike way. He was beautifully 
made, all hard planes and defined ridges. He was shockingly agile, and made stripping look less 
cheesy and more… erotic. 
 
I had a fairly good view from our table, and I watched in complete fascination as Edward turned, 
ground his hips, and ran his hands down his chest, over his stomach, and over his waistband to 
clutch what appeared to be impressively-sized penis through his jeans. His hands moved back to 
the button of his jeans, and he slowly unbuttoned them and slid the zipper down. 
 
When the chorus of "Satisfaction" blasted at us, Edward pivoted, swinging his hips as he pushed 
his jeans off his hips enough to see the top of his underwear. I couldn't be sure, but it didn't look 
like Edward was wearing a g-string. That struck me as kind of odd – wasn't the g-string the 
typical stripper uniform? He thrust his pelvis toward the back of the stage to the cheers of the 
crowd; only Edward could have made dry humping on a stage seem both sinful and innocent at 
the same time. 
 
I giggled a little as I realized how perfect the song was, given what I had heard being shouted 
from his apartment. The irony wasn't lost me, either – Mick Jagger singing about getting no "girl 
reaction" while Edward took his clothes off in a gay strip club. 
 
"Holy fuck," Alice said beside me. After her confession to me about what pregnancy hormones 

did to her libido, I worried that she would try to mount Edward if he got anywhere close to us. 
 
Her jaw was still practically on the table, and my own face probably looked similar. Edward 
closed his eyes for a moment and smirked as he danced to the far side of the stage and shook his 
ass at a table full of guys. He knelt down, and several of them tucked bills into his pants with 
lingering touches. One of Edward's hands coasted up his chest to his hat as he stood; he dipped it 
off his head and fanned himself, a smirk breaking over his face. 
 
At that point, I was feeling a little warm myself - I felt the heat all the way to my toes, and it 
settled somewhere around the vicinity of my midsection. The hat lowered a little more as he 
suggestively moved it toward his unzipped pants, and he tossed it onto the stage behind him. 
 
And then Edward strutted his way toward our table, and I thought Alice was going to swallow 
her tongue. 
 
"I feel like maybe I should avert my eyes," she squealed. "It's like watching your brother do 
something really dirty." 
 
I nodded, but didn't look away. How could I? Edward was his hand under the top of his 
underwear and pushing his jeans further down his hips a bit as he danced. I wasn't feeling 
particularly brotherly toward him at that moment. 
 
Did Liz know about this? I felt a little sick thinking about Edward's sweet mother as I 
lecherously eyeballed her son's package. 
 
He spun around and shimmied the jeans off slowly. He stepped out of them when they were in a 
heap at his feet, and stalked aggressively toward the other side of the stage again. My eyes were 
glued to his ass and the brief, very tight hot pants he now wore. He was more covered up than the 
other strippers, but it was so much sexier. 
 
Even though Edward was doing at least some stripper type moves, he really was a very good 
dancer. As he moved back toward center stage, I could have forgotten he was mostly naked. He 
was graceful and lovely to watch. He may have been undulating and waving his dick in men's 
faces for cash, but he did it with confidence and a strange kind of beauty. 
 
A man two tables away tucked some money into the waistband of Edward's shorts as Edward 
rolled his torso and dropped his ass to the ground. I was sure he would catch a glimpse of us, but 
he popped back up without a glance in our direction. 
 
"Jesus. Who knew he had it in him? I thought he was a phone psychic?" Alice said, her voice 
stupefied. I shrugged, watching the lights glance off the muscles in his back as he gyrated toward 
the catwalk. 
 
He would dance a few feet and then stop in front of a table to allow men to slide bills into his 
shorts. It was when Edward turned at the end of the catwalk that he saw us. He never stopped 
moving, but he stared at me with the most inscrutable look on his face. There was actual drool in 

my mouth. It could have been the semi-erection Edward was carting around in his shorts that was 
making my mouth a little juicy. 
 
"Oh shit," I muttered. "He's pissed, isn't he?" Well, among other things… he was also obviously 
a little turned on by dancing or by the men touching him. 
 
Alice said, "Geez, Mo, I don't know. I can't tell. Maybe we should leave." 
 
I couldn't have gotten up from my chair if I tried. Edward's eyes still burned into mine as his 
song ended, he held my gaze until he left the stage. He could have released doves from his ass as 
the finale for all I knew – I was so focused on our staring contest, I missed the end of his act. 
 
The hard-driving, electronic beat of a dance song picked up as a new stripper took the stage, this 
one wearing leather pants, a vest, and a cop hat. He did a split and crawled down the catwalk, 
licking his lips. It was kind of grotesque after seeing Edward's more, um, subtle performance. 
 
I turned to Alice, my heart still pounding. "Well, that was… unexpected." 
 
She nodded and then her eyes went wide. "Oh shit. Edward is coming this way. Act like you 
didn't just see him shaking his money maker." 
 
He had put his pants back on and donned a tee shirt in record time. I was relieved he wasn't 
wearing the cowboy hat. He had put his glasses back on; Clark Kent came to mind, except that 
Edward was likely not a stripping super hero, despite his stellar body. I giggled a little as the 
image of him dashing into a phone booth to rip his clothes off and emerge in black hot pants hit 
me. 
 
"Hello, ladies," he said as he pulled up a chair and sat down between us. "Enjoy the show?" 
 
Alice's eyes widened further; I thought her eyeballs might fall out of her head. "I'm so sorry, 
Edward. I didn't know!" 
 
"No, it's okay, Alice," he said, shaking his head ruefully. "Just a surprise, is all." 
 
"You're very good," Alice offered. "Mo and I enjoyed it." 
 
"Did you?" he asked, but it was more of an amused statement than anything else. He watched me 
carefully, and I couldn't figure out why. Maybe I had spilled beer down my shirt or something. 
 
Alice nodded vigorously. "Oh yeah! Why weren't you here the night I saw Jasper dance?" 
 
"Um," Edward looked around and licked his lips nervously. "I only work here every once in a 
while. When Jasper needs to handle something, I fill in for him so he doesn't lose his spot in the 
rotation." He cleared his throat. "I'm heading out. Can I talk you guys into sharing a cab home?" 
 
Alice looked back and forth between Edward and me, and smiled brightly. "You know, I think 

I'm going to stick around. Mo, why don't you go? I'm not sure what time I'm going home." 
 
"Okay," I said automatically. I wasn't so sure I could be trusted not to do anything inappropriate 
after what I had just witnessed. I was singularly aware of Edward's body now that I had seen him 
strip. Of course, it occurred to me that he danced in a gay strip club. It was probable that he was 
not in any way interested in me; I wondered if he and Jasper were seeing each other. "I'll see you 
tomorrow, Alice?" 
 
Edward stood and guided me out of the club with his hand burning a hole into my lower back. 
We stood in awkward silence as Edward waited for a taxi to drive past. He flagged one down, 
and he held the door as I slid in. 
 
The air around us seemed to be charged. When I couldn't stand it anymore, I blurted, "Does your 
mother know about this?" 
 
"Uh, no," he answered. The street lights flashed off his teeth as he smiled in the dim light. "Liz 
would probably pitch a fit if she knew, so I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell her." 
 
I nodded. "Of course. Your secret is safe with me." 
 
I watched the buildings flash by as we moved through the city and finally said, "Do you enjoy 
stripping?" I was genuinely curious. I mean, judging by the wood he was sporting during his act, 
I assumed he did, but it seemed like kind of a shitty way to make money. Granted, I wasn't one to 
talk – having to deal with a slimeball like Felix every day wasn't exactly the stuff that dreams 
were made of. 
 
Edward barked out a laugh. "Not particularly. Would you want to take your clothes off for 
money while trying desperately not to fall off the stage?" 
 
"Then why do you do it?" It's not like he was on the run and getting naked in front of grabby 
people because he was desperately trying to appear normal. Well, I didn't think he was. 
 
"Well… I mentioned that I only work when Jasper can't cover a shift, right? Well, if it was just 
that, I'm not so sure I'd do it. I know I wouldn't. But Jasper's mother is like a second mother to 
me." He shifted in the seat next to me. 
 
"What does shaking your ass in front of strangers have to do with Jasper's mother?" I asked, 
confused. 
 
He laughed again. "Nothing. Everything." His sigh sounded sad and frustrated. "Jasper lives with 
his mother… she's really sick. It's really why Jasper strips instead of working on his music – he 
needs the money to pay for her hospital bills. Anyway, when his mom is in the hospital or needs 
to go to the doctor on a night that he works, I take his shift." 
 
I felt for his hand in the backseat and grasped it in mine tightly. "You're a good person, Edward." 
He squeezed my hand. 

 
Even though I was afraid of the answer, I asked, "Are you and Jasper together?" 
 
His lips twitched as he shook his head. "Um, no. Jasper is most definitely not my boyfriend. I'm 
not gay, Mo," he said gently before moving a tiny bit closer to me in the back seat. We rode the 
rest of the way to the apartment in silence. 
 
He didn't let go of my hand until we stood in front of my door. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, 
just… long. 
 
I unlocked the deadbolt, wondering why Edward wasn't moving toward his own apartment. He 
followed me into mine when the door swung open and I walked in. I didn't mind; it was just 
surprising. 
 
"Tea?" I asked. 
 
Edward nodded and sat down on my couch, watching me as I puttered around the kitchen. The 
information about Jasper explained the stripping, but I hadn't asked about the constant sex in his 
apartment. Really, I was kind of afraid to. I didn't want to find out that Edward was schtupping 
the twinks who sold themselves in a nearby alley or that he himself was whoring himself out. It 
would sort of spoil the fantasy for me. 
 
As I pulled tea cups from the cabinet, I imagined it was something more interesting and less… 
illegal. Like maybe he was really teaching tantric sex classes or doing porn voiceovers from the 
comfort of his apartment. 
 
I sat down next to Edward on the couch and handed him a cup. 
 
"So, did you and Jasper grow up together?" I asked, completely avoiding what I really wanted to 
know. 
 
"Yeah," he said. "He and his mother lived down the street from my family when we were little. 
They moved to the city when we were in junior high, but we stayed in touch. He was even my 
roommate for a few months when he was in the San Francisco Conservatory of Music." 
 
Edward told me funny stories about Jasper and his mother, and explained how hard the last five 
years had been as Mrs. Whitlock got sicker and sicker. 
 
It sounded like Jasper had been a good friend to Edward over the years, and I could understand 
why Edward would help him out like he did. Edward didn't even keep the money he made while 
stripping. He said it made him feel weird. Jasper wouldn't accept the cash, so Edward would just 
slip it into the sugar canister whenever he visited Jasper and his mother. 
 
I glanced at the clock; Edward had been talking for an hour. I was getting sleepy, but I didn't 
want to interrupt him. The sound of his voice lulled me; my eyelids were getting heavier and 
heavier. 

 
I woke with a spicy smell in my nostrils and the warm feel of stubbled, bare skin against my 
cheek. Something firm and warm was crushed to my chest, my fingertips exploring the arm that 
held me there. 
 
My eyes flew open. Soft morning light filtered through my open bedroom door and into the 
living room, just reaching the couch. Edward was half under me, my nose pressed up against his 
neck. I hadn't meant to fall asleep on him; hopefully it hadn't been too uncomfortable for him. 
 
I didn't want to move. He smelled so wonderful, and it felt amazing to just lie in his arms. My 
head was fuzzy with sleep, but it didn't escape my notice that my heart ached as I remembered 
the last arms that had been around me like this. The day before he hit me, Jake and I had spent 
the day in bed cuddling. His arms had been strong around me, too, and he had whispered sweet 
things in my ear. It had been a really good day. There was no indication that the next day would 
be so entirely awful. 
 
There had been no indication that my life would change so entirely. Jake had broken my heart 
and my life. 
 
Edward groaned in his sleep and squeezed me tighter, pushing my forehead hard against his 
mouth. 
 
I eased out of his arms and moved to slip off the couch, but Edward snaked his arm around my 
waist and pulled me back to him. 
 
"Where do you think you're going, Mo?" he growled as my head bounced off his chest. 
 
"Well, I was going to make you some tea so there was a chance you wouldn't gross me out with 
your morning breath," I teased, pushing away the thoughts of Jake. 
 
"Morning breath! Morning breath?" he chuckled. "I'll show you morning breath!" Edward ran his 
fingers down my side and tickled the skin the peeked out below my shirt. I giggled and shoved 
his hands away as I fell back into him. 
 
Righting myself, I asked, "What are your plans today?" It was nearly time for him to start yelling 
at people to suck his dick. And I would have to get a shower and prepare myself for another 
exciting day of running away from Felix. 
 
"I'll have to put in some time at my psychic gig," he answered, not meeting my eyes. "I also 
really want to write a few thousand words today." 
 
I just couldn't understand why or how he was having so much sex. I mean, he seemed so normal. 
I doubted he was a hooker – if he wouldn't keep the money from filling in for Jasper, he probably 
wouldn't feel right earning a living on his back, so to speak. 
 
Nodding, I took a sip of tea, keeping my eyes on my knees. 

 
Edward's hand cupped my face gently and turned my head toward his. Before I had time to react 
to the look in his eyes, he lowered his lips to mine. For just a moment, I let myself enjoy the kiss. 
His lips were soft and warm, and I could feel the edges of his mouth curve up slightly in a sweet 
smile. With the memory of the sounds that constantly came out his apartment running through 
my head, I pulled away and turned away. 
 
"What's wrong?" Edward murmured, stroking my hair. 
 
What was wrong? I didn't want to become part of Edward's bizarre sex fetishes or whatever was 
going on with him. I couldn't afford to get sucked into anything where my heart could get 
broken. And yet, I wanted nothing more than kiss him again. 
 
My life was a shambles, and it wasn't fair to Edward to let him kiss me when he didn't even 
know my real name. It wasn't fair to me to kiss him without knowing what secrets he was 
keeping. 
 
"Maureen?" His voice was soft and low. 
 
I turned my face toward him. "Yes?" 
 
"I get the feeling there's more going on with you than just an abusive boyfriend," he said 
hesitantly, his light green eyes staring frankly into my brown ones. "Maybe some of my psychic 
phone line training has rubbed off." His teasing smile was sincere. "Are you really alright?" 
 
The panic in my face must have been evident, because he immediately backtracked. "You don't 
have to tell me, and maybe it's really just exactly what you said it is. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have 
asked." 
 
I chewed the inside of my lip and changed the subject, the words coming out of my mouth in a 
stupid-sounding stream. I was powerless to stop the word vomit. 
 
"I hear you having sex in your apartment all day for hours at a time. What the hell is going on in 
there? Are you a hooker? Are you addicted to sex?" 

 

8. 

 

 
 
"Er… what? Why would you ask that?" Edward's forehead wrinkled, and he sat back against the 
couch as he took a long sip of tea. The long fingers of one hand drummed nervously against his 
knee. 
 
I stared at Edward intently. Was he really going to make me say it out loud? He just sat there and 

drank his tea, though, so I felt like I had to say something just to break the tension that had 
cropped up. 
 
"Um. Well, you see…" I fiddled with the piping on the couch cushion next to me. No matter how 
I phrased this, I was going to sound like a moron. I sat up straight and looked at him, determined 
to just get it out. "Okay, here's the deal, Edward. Every morning before I go to work, I hear you 
having sex. Loud sex. For hours. The day after I moved in I actually lost count of the number of 
times you yelled that you were coming. I considered creating my own drinking game based on 
the number of times you spanked whoever was in your apartment." 
 
Edward's lips twitched, his face an unhealthy purple color. 
 
"So… I figured that you either had a severe sexual problem – maybe some kind of addiction or 
some kind of insatiability thing – or you're turning tricks over there." 
 
He pursed his lips. "Do you have other theories?" His voice sounded strangled and high-pitched. 
 
I wanted to hit him in the head with the cushion in my hands and force him to tell me, but I 
played along. 
 
"The less… um, illegal or strange things I've come up with are that you're involved in porn – 
writing it, making it… something. Something not good." 
 
"Oh," Edward said with a grin. "Those are interesting guesses. I-" 
 
Loud hammering on the door interrupted him, and I clenched my fists in frustration. Shooting 
him a murderous look, I peered out through the peephole. It was Emmett and a tall blonde 
woman. Their timing could not be worse. 
 
With an aggravated sigh, I undid the locks and swung the door open. Emmett's dimpled grin 
made it impossible to stay all that annoyed. 
 
"Hey Maureen! I didn't have time to get back here yesterday, so I came back today to sand down 
the wall." He gestured toward the woman. She was smiling, but her eyes were hard. Under the 
florescent lights of the hallway, her skin had an unhealthy green hue. "This is Rosalie, my 
fiancée." 
 
"Emmett! Ro!" Edward called from behind me. 
 
Emmett craned his neck around the doorway and his smile grew. "Edward!" He pushed past me 
and pulled Rosalie into my living room after him. 
 
I sighed again and offered them tea or coffee. There was a frown on my face as I headed into the 
kitchen. Rosalie sat next to Edward on the couch, and Emmett shook his hand from across the 
coffee table. It was as if Edward had some inner radar that alerted him to troublesome questions, 
and he was able to put out some kind of bat signal to his friends to come and save him. I couldn't 

even be that upset, though – every time someone asked me a personal question, my stomach 
clenched and I had to review the rolodex of lies in my head to make sure I didn't contradict 
myself. 
 
"Maureen?" Emmett had stuck his head into the kitchen. 
 
"Yeah?" I answered, putting the kettle onto the stove to heat. 
 
"I'm going to head into the bedroom, okay?" 
 
I looked over at him and nodded with as much of a smile as I could muster. I could hear low 
murmurs coming from Rosalie and Edward as I waited for the water to boil. 
 
"Just tell her," Rosalie said. "It's not that big of a deal." Edward shushed her and their voices 
were too quiet for me to hear anything else. 
 
With an impatient huff, I dug through the cabinet for sugar. 
 
A throat cleared behind me. I whirled around to see Rosalie with a white box in her hands. She 
had twisted her long, blonde hair into a nearly matted twist that snaked over her shoulder. 
 
"Emmett asked me to give this to you," she said shyly. "It's a box of pastries that he made 
yesterday during his shift." 
 
She extended her hand, and I took the white box gingerly, as if it might contain explosives. 
 
"The apple caramel pie is particularly good," she offered. 
 
"Thank you, Rosalie," I said. "How do you take your tea?" The kettle had begun to whistle 
faintly. 
 
"Oh, just plain." She waved a hand dismissively and moved to take the kettle off the stove for 
me. Rosalie moved around my kitchen as if it was hers, but she had probably spent quite a bit of 
time here when it was Emmett's apartment. 
 
She poured the water into mugs and asked if I wanted to top off my own tea. I nodded and 
walked out to the living room to get my mug. Edward was sprawled out on the couch, staring at 
the ceiling. He looked up at me as I approached. 
 
"Do you want more tea?" I asked. He nodded. 
 
As I picked up his tea and turned to go, he touched my leg gently. 
 
"We'll talk when they leave," he said. "But I want answers, too." 
 
The panic welled up in my chest. I couldn't tell him, could I? On some level, I was considering it. 

The burden of keeping this to myself and handling it by myself with no emotional support 
whatsoever from Charlie was getting to me. 
 
I nodded, not sure of what I would do, and turned back to the kitchen. 
 
"He likes you, you know?" Rosalie whispered to me as I set the mugs on the counter. "You don't 
have to be afraid." 
 
My head whipped in her direction, but I didn't say anything. I just picked up the kettle and tipped 
more water into the cups. Rosalie moved to throw out the teabag wrappers and stepped close to 
me. 
 
"Don't take this the wrong way, Maureen, but you have a certain look to you." 
 
Oh god. Did she recognize me? Had Sam found where I was and put up flyers? I was so screwed. 
How long would it take me to pack a bag and get to the airport. As I mentally calculated how to 
escape San Francisco, Rosalie put her hand on my shoulder. 
 
"I can see it in your eyes that you're freaking out. You have the haunted look of someone on the 
run from something bad that's happened," she said. 
 
I stared at her blankly. 
 
"I'm not going to ask you anything about it. Just know that I've been there and know you can call 
me, day or night, if you need anything. It can stay just between us." 
 
She put her business card on the counter and smiled at me before taking two mugs of tea out of 
the kitchen. 
 
Had I really been that transparent? Rosalie knew something was wrong, and Edward obviously 
had his suspicions. I was the world's worst actress; I had to be on crack to think I could pull this 
off. 
 
I followed Rosalie out of the kitchen with the tea for Edward and me, carrying the white box of 
pastries by the string that tied it closed. 
 
"Is it okay if I rinse out this paintbrush in the bathroom sink?" Emmett yelled from the bedroom. 
 
"Sure," I called back and untied the box after I set down the tea. 
 
Rosalie leaned over the box and pointed out each dessert. "That's the apple caramel pie I told you 
about. Oh, and that's Em's tiramisu… also amazing. That's upside down pineapple pumpkin 
gingerbread… peach crème brulee… and you have to try these – dark chocolate chip cookies 
topped with sea salt. They're best heated and topped with vanilla ice cream." 
 
She squeezed my hand and sat down with a gentle smile. I was sure she had my best interests at 

heart, but she was seriously making my blood pressure spike. 
 
Emmett came out to the living room and picked up his tea. "Good as new," he said to me. 
 
Edward broke off a piece of the gingerbread, popped it in his mouth, and moaned. It reminded 
me of the conversation that had been interrupted, and I simultaneously wished Rosalie and 
Emmett would get the hell out already and stay forever. They both finished their tea and rose to 
leave fairly quickly, though. They said their goodbyes to Edward, and Rosalie rubbed my 
shoulder in what I assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture and whispered, "Call me," 
before she walked out the door. 
 
Silence echoed loudly in my living room as I shut and locked the door and turned toward 
Edward. 
 
"I'm going to grab some forks for the dessert," I said, escaping to the kitchen for a moment. 
Picking two forks out of the drawer, I slid Rosalie's business card under the tray of flatware. 
Getting in touch with her wasn't high on my list of priorities, but I didn't want to throw out her 
card, either. 
 
I heaved a heavy sigh and went to face Edward. His hands were clasped in front of him, elbows 
on his knees, and he leaned forward a bit as I came back into the room. I handed him a fork 
wordlessly and took a seat on the couch about a foot away so I wasn't touching him. 
 
With a forkful of gingerbread in my hand, I looked up to meet his anxious green eyes. 
 
"I'm not a prostitute and I'm not making porn," he said. "And I'm not a sex addict." 
 
I popped the fork into my mouth and thoughtfully chewed on the cake. Jesus, Emmett could 
bake. It was delicious. "Okay," I answered after I swallowed. 
 
"I'm also not a telephone psychic." 
 
Well, there went all my ideas. "Uh huh," I said, hoping he planned to elaborate. 
 
He dug his fork into the tiramisu and took a bite. "I actually tried to get a position with the 
company that does that, but I didn't make a convincing seer. So..." he glanced at me and then 
lowered his gaze to the pastries, "I got a job as a phone sex operator." 
 
Another bite of Emmett's pineapple gingerbread concoction had been en route to my mouth, but 
Edward's confession arrested the flight of my fork in mid-air. 
 
"I'm sorry. What?" I asked after lowering the utensil to the table. "That doesn't make sense. I 
mean, it does – it totally explains the moans and the sound effects and the commands and… um, 
what I mean is, why is it mostly in the morning instead of, I don't know… at night? Don't most 
people who call in for phone sex do it at night?" I stood up and flapped my hands uselessly. 
"And I thought it was mostly men who called for phone sex? Who are you having the phone sex 

with?" I thought again about last night in the cab when he said he was straight; I had to wonder if 
he had been honest with me. 
 
Edward was still eating tiramisu and watching me with cautious eyes. 
 
"Er, so… okay. My schedule needs to be flexible, which is why I wanted to be a phone psychic. I 
kind of have a regular writing schedule I like to keep, which is to start around noon and write 
until my head explodes. I'm not much of a morning person… I just don't think that well." 
 
I nodded to indicate that I understood, although I had just come up with another dozen or so 
questions. 
 
"I was as surprised as you are that people call in the morning for phone sex. Apparently, it's 
popular any time of day, and the company handles calls from all over the country, so the time 
zones to differ. And, um, I have phone sex with whoever calls – male or female. They give us 
scripts to follow, depending on what the caller wants." 
 
There could never be enough cake for this conversation. I sat down again and started in on the 
crème brulee, wondering if he was sexually confused. Talking wasn't doing, but I wondered if he 
enjoyed the phone sex. 
 
"The money is good," he said gently, taking my fork from me. 
 
"I'm not really interested in that," I said, focusing on a spot on his forehead so I didn't have to 
look into his eyes. 
 
"What are you interested in?" Edward asked. I had no idea. 
 
"Do you like what you do?" 
 
He shrugged. "It's okay. I mean, it's a job. Do you like working the dispatch?" 
 
"That's not the point." Felix's octopus hands weren't the issue, although I did, in fact, hat that job. 
"I guess what I mean is… do you get off on the job?" 
 
Edward chuckled and scooped up a bit of crème brulee. "You mean, do I jerk off or something 
while I work?" 
 
That was an image I definitely didn't need in my head. Now that I had finally pushed the 
thoughts out of my mind of Edward turning tricks in the apartment next door, I didn't want to 
replace them with the idea of him sitting naked at his desk with the phone in one hand and his 
dick in the other. I nodded mutely. 
 
"Er, no," he said. "Like I said, it's just a job. I think of it as an acting gig. You didn't ask, but I 
also think of stripping as the same. But I don't want to be an actor… I want to write." 
 

"Uh, Mo?" 
 
I turned toward him, and he offered me a bit of crème brulee. As I slide it off the fork, he asked, 
"Can I ask you something?" 
 
"Sure." Just don't ask me about who I am, I thought. I still hadn't decided what to tell him. 
 
"Why does it matter?" 
 
"You kissed me," I said. "I didn't want to kiss you if you were a hooker or something." 
 
Edward paused and swiveled his body towards mine. "So… does that mean you want to kiss me 
now that you know I'm not?" 
 
It was more complicated than me wanting to kiss him. I did… undeniably. But kissing him was 
wrapped up in the danger of my present situation and not wanting to drag anyone else into it. 
And yet I was so lonely and just so… alone. 
 
He moved closer to me and ran the tip of his finger across my eyebrow and down the curve of 
my cheek to trace the outline of my top lip before kissing me tenderly. Tears burned behind my 
eyelids. I had no one, but Edward's lips were on mine and he was so warm, so gentle. For just a 
moment, I imagined telling him everything. A second after that I envisioned this Sam guy trying 
to kill him because of me. I pulled away from the warmth of Edward's kiss and turned my head 
away, unable to stop the tear that slid down my cheek. 
 
"I'm not him," Edward murmured against the side of my face. 
 
His hands soothed my hair, and his lips pressed a soothing line of kisses across my jaw. I 
couldn't force myself to stop him. 

 

9. 

 

 
Alice inched down the aisle of the beauty supply store, perusing the hair dye. She had a routine: 
she'd clutch a color sample, grab a piece of my hair and scrutinize both it and my face, and then 
scrunch up her nose as if she had caught a whiff of Felix's rancid breath. 
 
Eventually she finished picking out a bunch of things and dragged me toward the check out 
counter. 
 
"Are you going to tell me what color you're dying my hair?" I asked. I didn't want to look 
ridiculous, and Edward had requested that I not dye my hair red. I couldn't give him much, but I 
could give him that. 

 
Edward. 
 
I had told him everything this morning. Everything. 
 
He had kissed my mouth with such reverence while we sat on the couch in the living room, and 
then broke the kiss to wipe away the moisture on my cheek with the pad of his thumb. 
 
I had taken a deep breath, sure that I was doing the wrong thing, and held his hand tightly before 
saying, "You're right. There's more to the story than a boyfriend who hit me." 
 
Edward ran his hand down my arm and stayed silent. I wasn't sure how much I should tell him, 
so I just told him everything. It was the ultimate purge. I told him about Jake and about the day at 
the cabin. The details of the trial spilled out of my mouth; I was helpless to stop myself. I hadn't 
told anyone the full story from start to finish, not once. It felt good to get it off my chest, to share 
the burden with someone. At the same time, I was terrified – that Edward would decide I was too 
much trouble, that telling him would put him in danger. I even worried that he would 
immediately find Sam and tell him where I was, although something in me instinctively knew 
that I could trust Edward. The feeling felt odd, as if the pebbled pit of distrust buried in my heart 
was under attack. 
 
"So… that's why I'm working dispatch at the bike messenger place," I said, picking at the hem of 
my shirt. "Charlie arranged for it. I'm also in self defense training with another of his 
acquaintances, and I'm supposed to be learning how to use a gun." 
 
"Should I be worried that you could kick my ass?" he teased. 
 
That was the least of his problems. "I can barely manage to fall down without hurting myself, so 
I think you're safe. Of course, knowing all this… it could be risky for you to know." 
 
He pulled me closer to him and slipped his arm around my shoulder. "Well. That's… that's a lot 
to deal with. Do you really think this guy could really find you?" It struck me as odd that he 
wasn't more concerned about his own safety. I mean, did he think I was kidding? I thought back 
to the day Charlie told me Jake had hired someone to come after me; I really hadn't taken it very 
seriously at first either. 
 
I sunk into the warmth of his side and closed my eyes. "Charlie called yesterday. He knows 
who's after me – some drug dealer that Jake hired. He's been asking questions about me, and he's 
been checking around the airport. Charlie thinks I should cut and dye my hair so I'm not so 
recognizable, just in case this Sam guy manages to put it all together. Alice said she'd help me." 
 
"Does Alice know?" Edward asked. 
 
I shook my head emphatically. "No. And I have to keep it that way. I shouldn't have even told 
you." 
 

"Why did you?" He didn't sound angry, as if he was pissed off that I'd sucked him on all my 
bullshit. He just kind of sounded curious. 
 
"I don't know," I answered, and then rolled my eyes and snorted. "Yes, I do know. I'm being 
selfish. Everything has been so shitty, and I've just felt… I don't know, empty and isolated. I 
don't want you to think that I told you because I just needed someone to talk to. I mean, I do. But 
I guess I told you because you sort of asked me to trust you… and I do." 
 
"You can, you know?" Edward's lips were pressed against my hair as he spoke. "You can trust 
me. I don't know that I can be of any help in your situation – I've been in exactly one fight in my 
entire life, and I have no clue about how to use a gun. But you can talk to me, tell me anything. 
I'll do what I can for you." 
 
I clutched at his arm and whispered urgently, "No, Edward. If that guy ever finds me, you have 
to promise to walk away. Promise me! Don't try to help me!" 
 
He shushed me and petted my hair. "Don't worry, Maureen. It's okay. It's okay. No one will find 
you. You're safe. Let me do what I can for you." 
 
His words opened up a fissure inside of me, and everything I'd been sitting on for the last couple 
of weeks came fizzling up to the surface. There was one last thing I hadn't told him. 
 
"Edward, my real name isn't Maureen Jackson." 
 
He pulled away to look at me; a small smile played at his lips. "Oh? Well, uh, what is it?" 
 
"Isabella Marie Swan," I said slowly, enunciating every syllable. "Everyone calls me Bella." 
 
His eyebrows raised and the smile grew wider. "Bella, huh? Very pretty. It suits you." And then 
he kissed me again, very sweetly. 
 
It was too much. Just… too much emotion sweeping through me, too much sensation from the 
affection in his kiss, too much relief at having spoken to someone other than Charlie about my 
life. With what pathetic defenses I had put up torn down, it was pretty much an invitation to 
hysterical crying. I didn't disappoint, and Edward took it like a champ. As I bawled into his shirt, 
he just held me and ran his fingers through my hair. 
 
That's how we ended up in my bed. He had picked me up, cradled me tightly into his chest, and 
walked me back into the bedroom. If I hadn't seen Edward with most of his clothes off just 12 
hours earlier, I would have been concerned that he'd drop me. I didn't weigh much, but Edward 
didn't look very strong with clothes on his body. 
 
As he sat me down on the bed and pulled the covers back, I vaguely worried he would try to put 
the moves on me. In my experiences, that's what men did when they got you alone in a bed. 
Edward was hot, but the last thing I needed right now was a complication like sex… despite what 
my flaming girl parts wanted after picturing him mostly naked. 

 
I was tense when he slid under the covers with me, but he just gathered me in and pulled me 
close. He just let me cry against his shoulder, and my nerves eventually unwound. I was crying 
quietly, the sobs lessening, until it occurred to me just how stupid I must look to Edward. My 
problems were not inconsequential, but it could have been so much worse. I was alive and 
Charlie, no matter how I felt about him, had helped me. I had a roof over my head and a job. 
 
Oh crap, my job. 
 
I looked over at the alarm clock on my nightstand. 11:00 am. I hadn't even showered yet. That's 
when I laid back and started staring at the ceiling. 
 
"Mo… I mean, Bella?" 
 
"Yeah?" I said, trying not to sound like a sniveling crybaby. 
 
"Don't you have to go to work soon?" 
 
"I was just thinking about that." I ran my hand over my forehead and wrinkled my nose. "I really 
don't feel like dealing with that right now. I think I'll take a sick day." 
 
"Won't your boss be pissed?" 
 
I chuckled. "I don't think it really matters too much. Charlie is paying my bills right now, and my 
boss thinks I'm a bookie's kid. Granted, it doesn't seem to bother him when he's trying to grope 
me. But I doubt he'd fire me for fear of some kind of retribution." 
 
It occurred to me that Edward had work to worry about, too. "What about you?" 
 
"I set my own hours," he reminded me. "And I don't mind taking a day off from writing if it 
means I get to spend it in bed with you." His voice sounded like he was smiling. 
 
I had to admit that it sounded like a nice idea – lounging with Edward all day. Was it wrong that 
I wanted him to feed me grapes and fan me with palm fronds? I wouldn't be opposed if he 
wanted to wear his little stripper hot pants, either… as long as he didn't try to get me naked. I'd 
had enough emotional turmoil for one day. 
 
"I promise to keep my hands to myself," he added, brushing his fingertips lightly over my belly. 
That wasn't a mixed message or anything… and how did he seem to know what I was thinking? 
It was probably obvious – I never could keep my emotions off of my face. 
 
"Let me call the dispatch," I said. Rolling away from Edward, I sat up and moved off the bed. 
My cell phone was in the living room, along with my laptop. I wanted to check for the promised 
email from Charlie. It occurred to me that maybe it was good that Edward knew; he could keep 
an eye out for this guy, too. 
 

Felix was his usual charming self. I hung up on him as he spat out expletives. With a roll of my 
eyes, I picked up the remains of the pastries and my laptop and padded back to the bedroom. 
 
Edward had propped my pillows against the headboard and was resting on them, a sweet smile 
on his face as I walked in. "What do you want to do today?" 
 
"Charlie said he was going to email me a photo of the guy Jake hired. I thought you should see 
him so you can help keep an eye out for him." 
 
Edward nodded. "Good idea. I know you don't want me involved, but I want to do anything I can 
to help." 
 
For being on the run and miserable because of having to live a lie, I felt strangely content as I 
climbed onto the bed next to Edward and booted up my computer, putting the pastry box down 
by my side. I wondered if maybe I had built up a cache of karma and the universe was giving me 
back a little happiness after a few months of absolute hell. My hand flew up to my horseshoe 
necklace and rubbed my thumb over the angles, hoping for a little bit of good luck for a change. 
 
Charlie's email was typically brusque. I clicked on the photo attachment and waited as it loaded. 
The face on the screen was swarthy, with dark, close set eyes and a wide nose. His long black 
hair was loose in the photo, which might have been a mug shot. 
 
I stared at the photo, trying to memorize the man's face. Edward lay quietly next to me, his hand 
resting gently on my shoulder. 
 
"He won't touch you," Edward whispered to me. 
 
His words rang in my head, and I wanted him to be right. 
 
"That'll be $52.10," the cashier said, pulling me abruptly from my thoughts. I still couldn't 
believe that Edward hadn't run away screaming. Pulling out my wallet, I handed the cashier a 
few bills. 
 
Alice was all excited about my pending transformation, although she seemed more subdued than 
usual. When I asked her about it, she just said the baby was turning somersaults. 
 
"My liver feels black and blue," she whined, rubbing the top of her stomach. "Just a few more 
months. So why don't you want to go red? I think you'd look great as a redhead." 
 
I felt weird disclosing the fact that Edward and I had basically spent the afternoon making out 
like teenagers. I was 29 years old and hiding from a drug dealer who had been hired to do god 
knew what. It seemed almost frivolous that I would be spending my free time kissing a 31 year 
old phone sex operator novelist who stripped every now and then. Suddenly it seemed less 
bizarre that Edward hadn't decided I was too much trouble – his own life was not exactly simple. 
 
"I guess one redhead on the floor is enough," I said, shrugging in what I hoped was an 

appropriately nonchalant way. 
 
Alice looked at me incredulously. "Are you really not going to give me any details about what's 
going on with the two of you?" 
 
"What do you mean?" I shifted the bag in my hands and walked down the sidewalk a little faster. 
 
"Mo, he was checking you out last night. When he was on stage he couldn't take his eyes off of 
you. There was smoldering, for Pete's sake! Smoldering!" Alice hands fluttered around her as she 
spoke. "And you seem more relaxed today than I've seen you. I'm relatively certain that there 
was some smooching going on in the cab home." 
 
I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face. I felt like I was a 13 year old girl or 
something, talking to her best friend about her first boyfriend; it was humiliating. 
 
"Um, well… yes, Edward and I kissed." 
 
Alice laughed and poked me in the shoulder with her bony finger. "I knew it! And Edward 
doesn't want you to go red because… ?" 
 
I pursed my lips and tried not to die of embarrassment. "Because he said it would feel like 
kissing his sister." 
 
"What makes you think I plan to let you kiss me again?" I had teased Edward when he said it this 
morning. 
 
"Well… I was hoping," he had said quietly, his eyes warm. "Maybe I'll just feed you some 
dessert instead. There's crème brulee left and another cookie." 
 
My stomach had rumbled at the mention. But that reminded me of the person who brought the 
box in the first place. I was curious about Rosalie. 
 
"Rosalie seems to know there's something going on with me." 
 
Edward had opened the box and took out one of the forks I had left in the box. "She's got a sixth 
sense about that sort of thing. She's an event planner by trade, but she's one of the most 
empathetic people I've ever met. I really like her." 
 
"Have you known her long?" 
 
He shook his head and brought a forkful of crème brulee to my lips. "She and Emmett started 
dating about a year ago, but we haven't spent a lot of time together. She's been really nice to me, 
though. She and Emmett were both really cool about the phone sex. My mother likes her – 
Emmett brought her to lunch with my parents once." 
 
I had forgotten how good Emmett's crème brulee was. It must have been laced with crack or 

something; it was so awesome I wished I had more of it. 
 
"Emmett gave me his recipe, you know." 
 
I had nearly forgotten that Edward could cook. "Did he give you the recipe for the pumpkin 
gingerbread? I could live on that," I said. "It's better than sex." 
 
Edward raised his eyebrows again and smirked. 
 
"Well, from what I remember," I qualified. "I'll tell you what… I'll trade you a kiss for some 
gingerbread." 
 
The smirk broadened and he leaned in, licked the corner of my mouth, and said, "It's a deal." 
 
I turned toward him and sat cross-legged on the bed as he cupped my cheek in his hand and 
pulled my lips toward his. 
 
Alice cleared her throat loudly and laughed when I jumped. "You're a million miles away. That 
must have been some kiss." 
 
I was still thinking about Rosalie, though. Something about our meeting this morning was 
bothering me. 
 
"Hey, do you know Rosalie?" 
 
"Um, did you kiss Rosalie too?" Alice's eyes went wide. 
 
I pushed her shoulder gently. "No! Emmett was over this morning, and he brought Rosalie." 
 
Alice almost seemed disappointed, which cracked me up. As if I needed one more thing to make 
things more interesting… 
 
"No, I've never met her," she said. "Emmett and I always had completely different schedules, so 
I rarely saw him when he lived next door. I did, however, hear them having sex a lot." 
 
It occurred to me that the sounds she heard may well have been Edward working. I stifled a 
giggle as we walked into the apartment building. 
 
Alice dragged me into her apartment and sat me down in a chair in the middle of her kitchen. She 
had furnished her apartment simply – a small couch and a television, a small wrought iron dining 
table with matching chairs, and that was pretty much it. The walls were bare with the exception 
of four black and white photographs in frames that were hung above the couch. I hadn't gotten a 
good look at them before Alice steered me into the kitchen, but they looked like still life photos 
of some sort. 
 
"This will be over before you know it, Maureen," Alice said. "Close your eyes. I'll give you a 

mirror when I'm done." 
 
Alice worked in near silence for two hours, and then led me to the bathroom mirror with her 
hand over my eyes. My anxiety level was through the roof. 
 
I opened my eyes and blinked. My scream echoed around the Alice's apartment. 
 

 

 

10. 

 

 
Edward kept sneaking furtive glances at me from his kitchen. I sat on the couch trying to avoid 
my reflection in the dusty glass of his television. My head felt about five pounds lighter, which 
might have been a good thing... but in this case, it wasn't. This kind of hair belonged on a 16-
year-old, not a 29-year-old. I felt ridiculous. 
 
If I had ever been worried about looking mousy and plain, Alice had eased those fears by cutting 
nearly ten inches off my long, wavy hair and changing the color from dark brown to medium 
blonde with chunky, caramel low lights and a streak of cranberry that swept across the front of 
my face. I didn't recognize myself. That was both good and bad. I mean, if Jake's drug dealer 
friend caught wind of my whereabouts and started flashing a photo, no one would be able to 
make the connection. The cut, a bob with fringey looking ends, completely changed the look of 
my face. The new color made my skin tone look different. It was good. On the other hand, my 
tenuous grasp on sanity was being severely tested. Hadn't I had enough change for one month? 
 
I absently reached toward where my hair should have been to twirl a strand around my finger, 
but the hair was missing. Instead, I clutched my horseshoe necklace and rubbed it with my 
thumb. 
 
For what seemed like the tenth time in three minutes, Edward looked over at me with a 
concerned expression on his face. 
 
"What?" I snapped. 
 
"Nothing, Mo... er, Bella. You just look tense." 
 
"I am tense. I have no hair left." My head thudded against the back of the couch, and I stared at 
the ceiling. At least some good had come of Alice's experiment with my hair - she had cut it off 
carefully so it could be donated to Locks of Love. After I had stopped screaming, Alice 
explained who they were, and then I started to worry about her; she wasn't supposed to touch the 
hair dye chemicals since she was pregnant. She assured me, though, that she had worn several 
pairs of plastic gloves. And then I had yelled again while I stared in horror at my reflection. 
 

Edward walked to the doorway of his kitchen and leaned against the wall. "You don't look like 
you, and that's the point. I have to admit... I kind of like it. You look hot. Not that you didn't look 
hot before. You just look hot in a different way." He smiled and rolled his eyes. "Okay, I'll shut 
up now." 
 
His babbling was amusing, but I still couldn't get over the feeling of having so much less hair. I 
felt like a freak. Or… I felt like a bigger freak, anyway. I shook off my self-pitying inner 
monologue and resolved to actually stop being a sniveling child. 
 
"What are you making?" I asked, as I walked past him into the kitchen. 
 
He turned and followed me to the stove where I peered into a skillet. It looked like fat rice. 
 
"I'm making risotto with pancetta, leeks, and mushrooms," he said, pouring in some liquid and 
stirring with a wooden spoon. 
 
I had no idea what pancetta even was, and I'd never seen the kind of mushrooms that were on the 
cutting board. They were brownish-white and looked almost crushed. 
 
"Are these really mushrooms?" I said, taking a bite. It tasted mushroomy, but different somehow. 
 
"Um hmmm, they're maitake mushrooms," he said. "I have a friend who forages for them 
nearby." 
 
I shrugged my shoulders. "Okay. What are you pouring into the rice?" 
 
"White wine and chicken stock. I make my own." 
 
"Wine or chicken stock?" I asked. I tried to imagine Edward stomping grapes. He seemed 
entirely capable of doing just about everything else, so it wouldn't have surprised me to hear him 
say that he made both. 
 
"Chicken stock," he specified with a grin. 
 
Why on earth would someone go to all that trouble when grocery stores sold it for so cheap? 
Edward spent five minutes explaining the virtues of homemade stock, but I barely listened. 
Instead I watched the light play off his sharp features as he talked. His face seemed to morph into 
something new with every tilt of his head and every curve of his mouth. 
 
We stood side by side for another fifteen minutes while he poured in more wine and stock and 
then stirred the rice a bit. 
 
"Do you want to grate the cheese?" he asked, handing me a giant chunk of hard cheese. 
 
"What is this?" I asked, wrinkling my nose. It smelled like vomit. 
 

"It's parmesan cheese." He gave me a funny look and slid an odd-looking grater in my direction. 
I liked to eat good food, but I was hopeless in the kitchen. The height of my culinary prowess 
was grilled cheese. 
 
"Parmesan cheese comes in a shaker can and smells nothing like this." At the very least, his 
cheese was bad. 
 
Edward heaved a big sigh and laughed. "You wound me, Swan." 
 
Hearing him call me by my real name sent a rush of heat through my body; I would never take 
my own name for granted again. I was practically giddy about the sound of my last name on his 
lips. 
 
"That shit in the can is disgusting. Stick with me, baby. I'll have you eating caviar in no time." 
He laughed again and kissed the side of my face. I laughed, too. It was nice to have a light 
moment like this – everything seemed almost normal. 
 
Aro's slicked-back hair was creeping me out. It looked oily and dirty, and a sprinkling of 
dandruff littered his black sweatshirt. 
 
"Never aim a gun at someone unless you plan to shoot someone with it," he instructed me. 
 
Charlie's email had insisted I call Aro Katzenberg, another 'old friend' of his who owed him a 
favor. He was twitchy and kept touching his nose. It was making me nervous; I wondered if I had 
something stuck to my face that he was unconsciously commenting on. 
 
He had told me to meet him at a shooting range a few neighborhoods over. Edward offered to go 
with me and wait around while I met with the guy, but I worried that Charlie would get wind of 
it – he would not be pleased if he knew I told anyone. I promised to call Edward as soon as I was 
done, though. He said he would worry if I didn't. It was sweet. 
 
Aro showed me the different parts of the gun, how to load it, and had moved on to gun safety. He 
licked his lips nervously and said, "Well, that's about it. Target practice?" 
 
"Uh, sure." I followed him down the hallway to a large room with tall ceilings. He took the stall 
all the way at the end of the row and handed me a pair of ear plugs. 
 
"Put 'em in," he said. "It gets loud in here. I'll stand behind you and give you instruction." 
 
I squished the foam into my ears and picked up the gun. The handle was rough and cool in my 
hand, and the gun felt heavy. Aro corrected my grip and instructed me to aim for the target at the 
end of the lane. I squinted at the torso-shaped target and tried to imagine Sam's face there. 
 
"Raise your arms now," he said, squaring my shoulders, "and gently squeeze the trigger. Gently 
now." 
 

If Aro wouldn't have been standing close behind me, I probably would have fallen backward 
when the gun went off. I had no idea where the bullet had gone, but it certainly didn't hit my 
target. 
 
He pushed me back into position and helped me get in a better stance to brace myself against the 
kick of the gun. 
 
"This is a good piece for you," he said approvingly. "Not much of a recoil. You'll get the hang of 
it in no time." 
 
Twenty minutes later I had managed to hit the target, but not the torso shape itself. Another ten 
minutes and I had shot the torso in the shoulder; I had been aiming for the head. 
 
Aro clapped me on the shoulder and smiled. "You're a natural. Just be sure to practice once a 
week or so, and you'll be in good shape. If you need me to come back and give you another 
lesson, call me… but make sure you tell Charlie, okay?" He was back to looking nervous when 
he mentioned Charlie's name. I didn't want to even think about what he had done to owe Charlie 
a favor. 
 
I spent another ten minutes shooting until I didn't think I could raise my arms to take another go 
at the target. My muscles felt like spaghetti. I was still no more confident that I would ever feel 
comfortable shooting a gun, but at least I probably wouldn't accidentally shoot myself in the foot. 
 
"You need a nose piercing or something," Edward mused as he ran his fingers through my hair. 
We were snuggled up on the couch in my apartment. 
 
"Probably not a good idea," I said with a grin. "My self defense instructor would probably 
accidentally rip it out while attacking me." Garrett and I were still working on throws and 
takedowns. 
 
Edward pressed a kiss to the tip of my nose, and I pressed myself closer to the warmth of his 
body. This had become a nightly ritual for us over the last two weeks, since the day I told him 
my entire life story. After I came back from work and the gym, Edward would take a break from 
writing. Either he'd cook dinner for me, or we'd order in. It was becoming increasingly difficult 
to remember that sex probably wasn't the best idea in the world. 
 
Charlie hadn't mentioned Sam in a while, so I assumed that no news was good news. I dared to 
hope that perhaps Jake hadn't paid the guy well enough to continue his search. Maybe I'd even be 
able to go home one day. 
 
Strangely, I had begun to think of this as home. Alice was becoming a good friend… or as much 
of a friend as I could be with someone who didn't know my real name. Emmett and Rosalie 
stopped by a few times to drop off pastries. Even Jasper had been over one night to hang out. I 
liked them all; they were good people. 
 
Spending time with Edward was comforting, and I trusted him. He made me feel safe, and I more 

than just liked him. 
 
"Hey, Emmett called today," he said before kissing my ear. "He and Rose are having a dinner 
party and invited us both. They said to invite Jasper and Alice, too. Do you want to go?" 
 
I nodded and grinned. "If Emmett is making dessert, yes, definitely. I'll talk to Alice tomorrow. 
When is it?" 
 
"Saturday night," he answered. 
 
I nodded and laid a series of open-mouthed kisses along the column of his neck. He smelled so 
delicious, and the low, growling noise that came out of his throat made me squirm and think 
about the way he looked mostly naked. 
 
I wriggled closer still and felt him harden against my thigh. His arm tightened around me 
imperceptibly, his hand clutched in my hair. My nipples hardened, and all I wanted was his 
hands touching me. 
 
"Bella," he breathed. I still loved to hear him say my name. Even after two weeks, it hadn't 
gotten old. 
 
"Say it again," I murmured in his ear as I slid my hand down to his lower back. 
 
"Mmmmmmm, Bella," he repeated huskily and scraped across my jaw with his teeth. I shivered 
and angled my face to kiss the edge of his mouth. His tongue tickled my lower lip, and I tasted it 
with my own. Without thinking, my hand found its way to his ass; it felt just as good as I 
imagined it would – round and firm. Edward lightly thrust his hips against me and kissed me 
harder. 
 
I had been resisting this for weeks. I hadn't ever been one to jump into sex and should have been 
even less inclined now. And yet as Edward and I spent time together, got to know one another, 
and got closer to deeper physical intimacy, I wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against 
mine. I wanted it. My avoidance tactics had begun as a way to keep him at arm's length, as a way 
to keep him from getting too close to the danger that hunted me. Edward was in danger now 
regardless of whether we slept together, and I didn't want to push him away anymore. 
 
We had been doing this dance, kissing passionately for hours and then backing off. Edward was 
probably worried about pushing me too far, too fast. He was gentle and sweet, completely aware 
of any hesitancy I showed. I didn't know if he would respond to subtle hints that I didn't want 
him to back off this time, and stripping off my clothes and attacking him seemed too forward. 
Edward likely wouldn't mind it, but I would feel strange about it. Maybe. 
 
With thoughts of how to seduce Edward swirling in my head, I hitched my leg up over his hip 
and pressed against his thigh. His breathing caught slightly, and I watched through half-closed 
eyes as his forehead crinkled while he kissed me deeply. His hand moved to my hip and then slid 
up my side and under my shirt, coming to rest on my ribs, just shy of my breast. 

 
I rubbed my hand over his short hair and down the back of his soft neck, bringing it around to lie 
over his hand. I moved his hand to cup my breast. For some reason, I felt it necessary to hold my 
breath, as if Edward was going to reject my advance. 
 
He buried his face in my neck and nipped at my skin as he stroked the skin of my chest. 
 
"You're so soft," he whispered against my throat. 
 
I pushed my hands under his shirt to run my fingers along the skin of his back. Feeling the 
muscles shift under my palms made goosebumps raise along my arms; I was both hot and cold, 
full of flames and shivering. He made me want to hide inside his arms and burrow myself under 
his skin. 
 
I pulled away from him a bit and pulled my shirt over my head, throwing it on the ground to the 
side of the couch. Edward's eyes were sweet as he pressed a kiss to the hollow between my 
breasts, and then laid his cheek in the spot where his lips had been. Ducking my head, I brushed 
my mouth against the top of his head. 
 
Slipping out from underneath Edward, I stood and held my hand out to him with a smile. I 
wanted him so much, to offer him the last piece of myself that I kept back. He curled his fingers 
around my hand and let me lead him into the bedroom. 
 

 

 

11. 

 

 
Edward's lips pressed against the back of my neck as we made our way through my bedroom 
door, his arm holding me tightly to him. For a split second I wondered if I was getting ahead of 
myself by luring him to my bed after only a few weeks, and then it occurred to me that Edward 
might be into kinky gymnastics in bed. He did take his clothes off professionally sometimes, and 
he did get paid to sex people up over the phone. It stood to reason that he'd at least know some 
tricks. 
 
I didn't know whether to be afraid or hopeful. 
 
When we reached my bed, I turned and stripped off Edward's t-shirt slowly, pushing his arms up 
over his head and slipping the shirt off his fingertips. I traced down the soft skin of his forearms 
and biceps with my hands, his arms lowering as he slid his hands into my hair, his palms pressed 
to my cheeks. Edward mashed our lips together, our tongues twisting inside my mouth. 
 
Edward's kisses always set my skin on fire – it was a big reason I had thrown caution and 
common sense out the window. And now the fire seemed to expand; I worried I'd get too worked 

up and pass out before I could get Edward entirely naked. 
 
His denim-covered erection was insistent against the skin of my stomach, and I had to admit that 
I was curious about what it would look like. The night Alice and I had seen him strip, he had 
been sporting what looked like kind of a big package… but there was no telling if that was just 
all some weird stripper illusion. It would be kind of disappointing if Edward ended up having a 
tiny little roll of quarters in his shorts. Then again, the look of that thing that night on stage was a 
little frightening to consider. Even when I did have condoms in my bedroom, which I didn't, I 
doubted I'd ever kept the large sized ones. I was never so happy to have had an IUD inserted a 
year prior, and Edward and I had had a weird and random conversation about birth control 
several days ago. I had asked him about his past girlfriends, only to be surprised that he hadn't 
been with anyone - casually or otherwise - in a year. The conversation progressed from there 
until we were discussing our testing schedules. 
 
I reached behind me and unhooked my bra, the straps falling down my arms. Edward skimmed 
his hands across my shoulders and down my arms, taking the straps with him as he pulled the bra 
from my body. My nipples puckered in the cool air of my room, and Edward tugged me toward 
him just until his chest met the tips and then moved to lightly rub back and forth against them. 
The moan that came out of my mouth was embarrassingly loud – if he could elicit this kind of 
response from me while we were half-dressed, I couldn't imagine how the rest of the evening 
was going to go. 
 
He fell to his knees in front of me, his hair tickling my breasts. Edward pressed an open-mouthed 
kiss to my skin and his tongue lingered there before veering down my stomach, his hands biting 
into my hips as he stopped to nip at the edge of my belly button. My fingers kneaded his hair and 
smoothed along the downy tuft at the back of his neck. 
 
Edward unfastened the button of my pants and slowly slid the zipper down, the sound of it loud 
in my ears. He tugged my pants off my hips, and I gripped his shoulder to balance when he 
picked up first one of my feet and then the other to leave me only in my underwear. He nuzzled 
his nose into the little bow sewn onto the front and pushed himself to his feet, dragging his 
fingertips up the sides of my body. 
 
My palms lightly brushed against the springy hairs of his chest, my breath coming faster, as I 
inched my hands toward his jeans. His dick strained against the front, giving me the idea that it 
really was as impressive as it looked on stage. I couldn't help it – my eyes were glued to the front 
of his pants, and I cupped him gently. 
 
"Jesus, Bella," he groaned. "Don't ever stop touching me." 
 
He didn't have to tell me twice. Hell, he'd be lucky if I let him leave my bedroom. We could have 
food delivered, and Edward could work and write from bed. And if I never left my room, it 
would be all the easier to stay hidden. It would solve all my problems. 
 
I bit lightly at his neck and gripped him through his jeans before popping the buttons of his fly. 
Edward's hands kneaded my breasts as I slipped my hand into his boxers and wrapped my 

fingers around his erection. He was as big as I had imagined, which was slightly scary and kind 
of exciting. His dick burned in my hand, and when I ran my thumb over the head, Edward 
bucked his hips against me and sighed deliciously. 
 
I shifted my hand upward and pulled him by his waistband onto the bed. Edward rolled onto his 
back, hooking his thumbs into his jeans and boxers and jerking them down. His penis looked 
kind of out of proportion to the rest of his body. Whereas most of him was streamlined and lean, 
his penis was decidedly not. I reached out a hand and fondled his balls; he twitched and 
shuddered. 
 
Before I could stop myself, I leaned over him and rubbed my cheek against the hot skin of his 
dick. He slid his hands into my hair and hummed low in his throat. I ran the tip of my nose along 
the underside, from base to tip, and swirled my tongue around the head. 
 
For half a second, I fully expected him to yell out, "Yeah, suck it" and invite me to use my teeth. 
I giggled, and Edward raised his head off the bed to look at me oddly. 
 
"Er, now might not be the time to be laughing," he said, his eyebrows raised. 
 
I sat up and turned my head toward him, still laughing. "I'm sorry, Edward. I can't help it – I was 
thinking about some of the stuff I've heard you say when you're, um, working." 
 
He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue before whispering, "If you want me to talk to dirty 
to you, Bella, all you have to do is ask. I can promise you that you won't find it amusing in the 
slightest." He tucked his finger under the elastic at the leg of my underwear and slid it across the 
lips and into my wetness. 
 
I shivered and closed my eyes. I'd have to quit the dispatch office if I made Edward live in bed, 
but I wouldn't really need the money. With Charlie paying my rent and Edward and I being 
naked all the time, I wouldn't really need much. 
 
"Open your eyes, sweets," he whispered again. "I want to watch your beautiful brown eyes." 
 
There was a lump in my throat that refused to be swallowed away. I definitely didn't feel like 
laughing anymore. My eyes opened to see Edward watching me with an unsettling intensity that 
made my nether regions ache for him. He propped himself up on his elbow and sinuously moved 
over me, pushing me to lay back on the bed with his advance. 
 
"Oh, Bella," he said with a smirk. "Look at what you're doing to me." 
 
Believe me, I was looking - the tip of his dick was dark red, almost purple. I wanted to reach out 
and touch him, but I found that under Edward's gaze, I could do nothing more than lie there and 
gawk at him. He cupped my cheek and ran the flat of his hand down my neck, between my 
breasts, and it came to rest over my navel, the heat of his hand burning a hole straight through to 
my spine. Alice was right - his eyes definitely smoldered, especially now when every place his 
eyes landed seemed to be its own caress. His other pulled one side of my underwear over my hip, 

and I raised my ass off the bed to help him. 
 
"Anxious, aren't we?" he whispered as he lowered his mouth to the skin just at the edge of my 
underwear, and pushed my hips back down toward the bed. His other hand went to my opposite 
hip and slipped my underwear down there, too, just a fraction of an inch. His tongue licked a line 
between my hip bones and then moved to lap at the lace covering my crotch. I knew they had to 
be soaked through. 
 
"Are you that turned on?" he asked, his breath pushing against the skin of my upper thigh. I 
thought it was rhetorical; it seemed pretty clear to me that I wanted to dispense with holding 
back. "Tell me, Bella, do you want me?" 
 
I squeaked when he nibbled on my lips through the fabric and nodded. 
 
"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that," he teased, tenderly kissing the skin just above the line of my 
underwear. 
 
I groaned and felt slightly idiotic when I replied, "Mmm, yes, god, I want you." It felt unnatural, 
like I was trying to be sexy and failing miserably. Maybe practice made perfect, because Edward 
actually was sexy when said stuff like that. It made me want to tear my undies off and have my 
way with him without delay. 
 
Edward grunted in approval and slid my underwear down an inch further, exposing the top of my 
lips. He tipped his tongue just inside, just as far as my undies would allow. I was really 
beginning to hate underwear; I vowed never to wear them again. My breath caught as his tongue 
just barely touched my clit, I wriggled my hips in frustration. He chuckled and kissed my skin. 
 
"How much do want me, Bella? How much do you want to come?" 
 
How could he sound like that? All growly and low-pitched liquid sex. No wonder he was a 
phone sex operator - the man could probably make my naughty bits tingly from across the 
country. As it was, it was making me want to talk dirty right back to him, and I wasn't feeling so 
odd about it anymore. 
 
"Mmmmm, Edward, please," I gasped as he raked his teeth across my skin. "I want it. I want 
you. So fucking much." He was torturing me with his mouth and his words. 
 
"Say it again," he groaned, pressing a kiss to the top of my labia. Jesus, my entire vagina felt like 
it was throbbing. 
 
"Say what again?" I asked innocently, my voice cracking on the last word when he huffed 
heavily and nosed my clit. 
 
"Beg me, baby," he said, his hands clenching around the fabric of my underwear. "Beg me to 
touch you." 
 

I would grovel if I had to - I was seconds from crawling on my hands and knees for him. 
 
"Please, Edward." I reached my hand out to run my nails lightly against the back of his neck. 
"Just... please... I need you to make me come." Every bit of self-consciousness I had flew away 
in that moment, because what I was telling him was completely true. What I didn't say is that I'd 
die if he stopped touching me, that every part of me wanted him in me and on me and next to me 
and under me. I wanted him ten ways 'til Tuesday and then some. 
 
Without another word, Edward wrenched my underwear down my legs and bit the inside of my 
thigh. It smarted, but I wanted him to do it again. Harder. It was confusing - I wasn't interested 
in pain, but that felt amazing. He brushed the stubble of his cheek against the spot he had just 
bitten and spread me wide with his hands, pushing my legs out on the bed. He nosed at my clit 
and plunged his tongue into me deeply as I arched my back off the bed. God, it felt amazing. I 
wondered if Edward would mind me assigning him regular cunnilingus duties if I held him 
hostage in my bedroom. He fucked me with his tongue and then would pull back to lightly flick 
at my clit for a moment before diving back in. I was panting within moments, and nearly 
screamed when he replaced his tongue with his finger. I could feel him curling his fingers and 
sliding them across the sensitive spot behind my pubic bone. I pressed my hips up, mashing his 
face into me as he kissed my clit before flicking at it and then sucking on it. 
 
My entire body strained as I concentrated on Edward's tongue and fingers in between my legs. 
He was playing me like he'd been having sex with me daily for years. It was good. More than 
good, it was phenomenal. I wanted him to make me come so hard, I'd have an aneurysm. I was 
being so loud, I started to hope that Alice wasn't home - I was sure she could probably hear me 
next door through these paper thin walls. Edward moaned and intensified his efforts with an 
animalistic vigor, while at the same time reaching up with one hand to roughly pinch my nipple. 
That was all it took; with a high-pitched cry, I came. I didn't have an aneurysm (I didn't think so 
anyway), but I saw stars and ponies and rainbows. In that moment, I wasn't some girl with 
fucked up-looking hair who was hiding from some thug her ex-boyfriend hired. I was just pure 
feeling, ecstasy. A dreamy grin spread over my face. I crossed my arms over my stomach to bask 
in the glory of the best orgasm I ever had. 
 
Edward wiped his chin against my leg and crawled up my body, kissing languidly as he went. 
His penis dragged against my thigh, and I was immediately hungry to touch him. 
He bit down lightly on the edge of my jaw and whispered into my ear, "You taste like honey. 
And when you come, you say my name like it's a prayer. Do you have any idea how much I want 
to fuck you right now?" He ran the tip of his tongue along the edge of my ear and circled my 
nipple lightly with the edge of his fingertip. 
 
I moaned at his words and his touch, sure that I might spontaneously combust. Moving to my 
knees, I attacked his mouth and sucked on his tongue before wrapping my arms tightly around 
him and pressing us together. Edward was hard and hot against my belly; I pushed him 
backwards on the bed, easing him down until he lay flat, his hands still moving over my breasts. 
I positioned myself over him, lining us up carefully. The tip of his dick nudged against me, and I 
slowly lowered myself onto him, trying to control my breathing as he filled me. I paused and 
shifted, earning a grunt from Edward as I leaned over to whisper in his ear, "Why don't I fuck 

you instead?" 
 
My brazenness should have shocked me, but Edward made me feel so sexy that it made perfect 
sense to me in the moment that I would say that to him. And the look in his eyes would have 
been worth any discomfort I might have felt - his eyes blazed into mine, and for the first time in 
my life I understood what real lust looked like. I sat up and rocked my hips against him, leaning 
back and bracing my hands on his knees. 
 
"Jesus, Bella, you look so fucking hot," Edward huffed, a faint flush spreading over his chest. He 
brought his hands to my hips to help me keep the pace, urging me to slow my movements to an 
almost excruciatingly languid speed. "Your tits swaying, your head thrown back. Fucking 
beautiful." As he spoke he moved one hand to my clit and drew quick circles around it. "I want 
to feel you come just like this, with me moving slowly in you. I want to feel everything. God, 
you feel so good." 
 
I moaned as his fingers moved to stroke my clit, and I shifted so that he was hitting a more 
sensitive spot inside of me. The pleasure built in the pit of my stomach and in moments I was 
clenching tightly around him, my orgasm rolling through me. Edward sighed and closed his eyes, 
mumbling, "Too much, too much." 
 
My movements slowed again, almost coming to a stop as Edward gripped my hips tightly. He sat 
up and lifted me off of him, turning me over and climbing to his knees behind me. I pulled 
myself so I was on all fours as Edward gripped his dick and rubbed it over my pussy from 
behind. Arching my back, I pushed back against him, wanting more from him, wanting it 
immediately. He complied by thrusting into me roughly, his hands clutching at my waist. His 
balls slapped against my ass as he moved quicker, his grunts mingled with my pants. The head of 
his dick was hitting me perfectly and I was on the edge of another orgasm in just a few strokes. 
 
"Oh, Edward, don't stop. Harder!" I cried. He pounded into me harder and even when my orgasm 
hit me again, he never stopped. It was maddening. 
 
"Brace your hands against the headboard," he panted before slipping his hands to my shoulders 
for leverage. The strength of his thrusts and my post-orgasmic glow made my teeth rattle in my 
head. He came with a long moan that ended in my name; his hips pushed against me erratically 
until he was spent, and then he slowed and pulled out of me. I collapsed on the mattress, 
completely sated and silently thanking fate for bringing me some natural stress relief and 
someone as sweet as Edward. His dirty talking was an added bonus, and I couldn't imagine what 
I had done right to deserve it. 
 
Edward curled his body around mine as I snuggled into him and pulled the covers over us. 
 
"Are you okay?" he asked, kissing my neck. 
 
"More than okay," I answered. And I was. I was completely blissed out and deliriously happy... it 
was as if the last few months never happened. 

 

12. 

 

 
The fog hung low over the streets as Edward and I walked hand in hand through the rain toward 
Rosalie and Emmett's apartment in the Noe Valley neighborhood. Edward held the umbrella over 
my head and we splashed through the puddles, laughing and kissing. If anyone had been 
watching us, it probably would have looked disgustingly sappy. I know I was deliriously happy – 
the sex was spectacular, and Edward was everything I had ever wanted in a man… minus the 
freaky phone sex job and the stripping. 
 
Even still, both jobs had their perks. The man could talk dirty like a pro… and I guess he kind of 
was. And yesterday Edward had pulled me into his arms after dinner to dance. At first it was 
sweet. We swayed slowly to some sexy-sounding song on the radio, and then things changed 
when he walked me backward into the bedroom. What had been tender and loving turned 
passionate and sexy. The way he ran his hands over my skin as he undressed me while his hips 
guided our rhythm. The look on his face as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt while still moving to 
the beat of the song. Jesus, it was just… well, I wasn't unhappy about his occasional stripping in 
that moment. 
 
Edward pulled me toward the front door of an aqua blue Victorian home, and Emmett opened the 
door for us, his dimples deepening as he led us into the living room. The apartment was airy and 
decorated in browns and reds. Rosalie called out a greeting from the kitchen. 
 
"Rosalie's cooking tonight," Emmett explained. "I do pastry, not dinner." He poured us both a 
glass of wine, and Edward went to see if he could offer Rosalie a hand. 
 
"If you want, I can open up your umbrella and leave it to dry in the hallway," he offered. My 
hand immediately flew to my necklace. 
 
"Jesus, Emmett, are you trying to kill us all? You never open an umbrella indoors!" Who didn't 
know that? What kind of people would run around willy nilly tempting fate like that? I 
envisioned Emmett going out of his way to step on cracks in the sidewalk and purposefully break 
mirrors. He just rolled his eyes and smiled wider, taking the umbrella and tossing it – still closed 
– into the bathtub. 
 
"When is Alice coming?" I asked. 
 
"She should be here soon," he said. "She had a massage at 5:30, and then she was coming 
straight here. Jasper should be here shortly, too. He doesn't go on stage tonight until midnight." 
 
We settled onto the couch and made small talk until the doorbell rang. Emmett came back up the 
stairs with Alice in tow; she looked exhausted. Dark under eye circles stood out against the pale 
skin of her face, but she still seemed to vibrate with excitement. I couldn't tell if she was faking 
her enthusiasm, but based on her appearance, I guessed that she would rather be at home 
napping. As usual, she was dressed to confuse – heinous, beige Ugg boots with black Capri 

leggings and a strange-looking cropped cape in a color I would only describe as 'vomit green.' 
 
Jasper came in next, shaking the water from his damp hair. 
 
"No date tonight, Jaz?" Alice chirped. Her pet name for Jasper was cute – they had become good 
friends over the last few weeks. 
 
Jasper ruefully shook his head and grinned. "Nah. With the number of gay men in San Francisco, 
you'd think I'd be able to meet someone. I guess Nob Hill Theatre doesn't quite attract quality 
boyfriend material." He turned to me and inspected my hair. "So this is Alice's handiwork, eh?" 
 
I nodded and pursed my lips. "Yeah, it's, um, different." I forced a smile onto my face – there 
was no room for complaints; I had given Alice free reign, and the point of it was to be 
unrecognizable… and I was. 
 
"I really like it, Mo," he said with a smile. "You look great as a blonde." 
 
Edward came out of the kitchen with a platter of olives, cheese, sausage, mustard, and crackers 
and sat down beside me. Alice's eyes were soft and happy as he slipped his arm around my waist 
and kissed my cheek. 
 
"Thanks, Jasper," I said. 
 
Alice squealed and picked at the food. "Oh my god, is this the lamb sausage from Marin Sun 
Farms you've been telling me about, Emmett?" She and Emmett immediately launched into some 
complicated discussion of how the farm raises their animals and available sausage varieties. I 
tuned out and listened instead to Jasper and Edward talk about Jasper's mother. 
 
"So, she's at home tonight?" Edward asked. 
 
Jasper laughed said, "Yeah. I offered to take her over to the senior center or bring in a home 
health aide for the night, but she refused. You know how she is." 
 
"She's doing better?" Edward leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. 
 
"Well," Jasper said, scratching his head, "she's better, but still not great. Her lungs have been 
worse lately, but the pain isn't nearly as bad." 
 
I squeezed Edward's knee and mumbled, "Excuse me." I felt kind of rude for not saying a proper 
hello to Rosalie, but I didn't really want her to ask me questions I couldn't answer. 
 
Rosalie was pulling a pan out of the oven when I walked into the kitchen. 
 
"Hey, Rosalie," I greeted her when she put the pan down. 
 
She looked over her shoulder at me and smiled warmly. "Maureen! Thanks for coming tonight." 

 
I cringed hearing my fake name. Now that I had told Edward and he was calling me 'Bella,' 
hearing anyone call me 'Maureen' seemed more foreign than ever. "Can I give you a hand with 
anything?" Not that I would be very helpful, but it seemed only polite to offer. 
 
"Dinner's almost ready," she said. "Why don't you hang out with me while I finish up, and you 
can help me carry out the food?" 
 
"Okay," I agreed. "What are you making?" 
 
"Um, well," she said, stirring a pot on the stove. "I've got pea and goat cheese tartlets and mini 
corn cakes with queso fresco and salsa to start with, and yellow bell pepper soup with fried 
parsley. The main course is butterflied leg of lamb with carrot, fava bean, and lentil ragu. Oh, 
and a salad of spring greens with orange and roasted fennel vinaigrette." 
 
I didn't know what half the things were that she named. Could everyone in San Francisco cook? 
Edward was amazing in the kitchen. Emmett was a pastry chef. I hadn't eaten Rosalie's food yet, 
but it sounded good. I wondered if Jasper and Alice could cook, too. My inability to boil water 
without burning it was making me feel a little inadequate. 
 
"One of the guys I use regularly for catering at events gave me the menu and recipes to try out," 
she explained. "So, how's everything going?" Her voice was pregnant with implication, as if she 
fully expected me to confess everything to her. While I was overwhelmed with relief by Edward 
knowing my story, there was no way in hell I wanted to involve anyone else. 
 
"Everything is fine, Rosalie. How are you doing?" 
 
She removed a stack of bowls from the cabinet to her left and smiled gently at me. "I'm good. 
Really good." She talked about some event that was coming up for her, and about how Emmett's 
liquid nitrogen experiments were making her nervous. 
 
"Why is Emmett playing around with liquid nitrogen? " I asked, confused. "Isn't that kind of 
dangerous?" 
 
She laughed. "Molecular gastronomy," Rosalie answered, as if that would make sense to me. 
 
"Huh?" 
 
"Apparently, one of the trends in food right now is using science to screw around with chemical 
and physical reactions in food prep. So, Emmett is experimenting to see how he can incorporate 
some of that into his pastries. " She said it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. Didn't 
she worry about him blowing up her house or freezing his fingers off or something? 
 
"He made liquid nitrogen ice cream the other day. That was pretty good, and so much quicker 
than a regular ice cream maker. The texture was wonderful. Yesterday he was freezing foams 
and stuff like that." 

 
I vaguely wondered if our dessert would be some strange, frozen concoction that would freeze 
my tongue solid. Rose handed me a few platters of food and asked me to take them to dining 
room. On my way out of the kitchen, she called my name softly. I swiveled my head toward her. 
 
"Your hair looks good. You did a great job at changing your appearance – I hope it keeps 
whoever it is from finding you. " She turned back toward the stove. My heart was in my throat as 
I delivered the food to the table. Rosalie was probably just trying to be supportive, but I needed 
her to stop. I thought the best course of action was just to ignore her. Of course, my initial 
reaction was to run screaming from the house, but that seemed like it might attract too much 
attention. 
 
Rose passed me on my way back to the kitchen, bowls and a soup tureen in her hand. "Could you 
grab the bottles of wine on the counter? And the wine key?" she asked. 
 
I was relieved to be in between Emmett and Edward at the table; I worried that Rosalie might try 
to sit next to me. Alice had that pleasure; would Rosalie try to pry information from her too? I 
always wondered about Alice's situation, but felt like I shouldn't ask, especially given that I was 
hiding stuff myself. This was the first time she and Alice were meeting, but Rosalie didn't 
exactly seem to care about that. 
 
Emmett was an amazing pastry chef, but Rosalie was also excellent in the kitchen. I may not 
have known what anything was, but it was delicious. Conversation flowed around me, and I was 
so grateful in the moment to have friends like these to keep me from going insane during my 
forced exile. 
 
Just as Rosalie was bringing out the plates of lamb, Jasper's phone rang. He excused himself 
from the table with an apologetic grin. "My neighbor," he explained. 
 
The look on his face when he rushed back to the table was one of pure panic. All conversation 
stopped and everyone looked at Jasper. 
 
"Jaz, what's wrong?" Alice said as she pushed back from the table. 
 
"My mom, she's… she's in the hospital. He wouldn't tell me anything. Just said I had to get down 
there right away. Something's very wrong." His face was pale and his eyes were wide with fear. 
 
Edward jumped up. "I'm coming with you." 
 
"Me too," Alice said as she tossed her napkin on her chair. 
 
"I'll call a cab." Rosalie quickly moved toward the living room, the worry evident in her voice. 
 
I hurried to the bathroom to grab the umbrellas and returned to Edward's side. I thanked Emmett 
and Rose for dinner, and all of us stood quietly by the front door, waiting tensely for the cab to 
arrive. 

 
The taxi ride to the hospital was silent. Jasper was sandwiched in between Alice and me in the 
backseat. He held my hand tightly as Alice petted his hair, and Edward navigated from the front 
passenger seat. The nurse on duty when we arrived at the emergency entrance asked us to wait 
while she paged the doctor. When two police officers met Jasper in the waiting room instead, I 
knew something terrible had happened. 
 
Edward sat next to me while the police talked to Jasper. Tears ran down Alice's face, and Edward 
looked anxious and sad. My anxiety level was building, but for a different reason – I hated 
hospitals. The last two times I had been in were when my mother passed away and after Jake had 
hit me. The police had insisted that I get my jaw examined, even though it was just a little sore. 
 
One of the officers nodded and moved toward the three of us. He looked at the pad of paper he'd 
been writing on and looked at us carefully. "You're Edward Cullen, Alice Brandon, and Maureen 
Jackson?" 
 
I hoped he wasn't going to demand identification. While I was sure the forged documents Charlie 
had procured for me would pass muster with airports and bars, I wasn't so sure it would be a 
good idea to be flashing them at the police. 
 
We nodded dutifully, and Alice asked, "Officer, is Mrs. Whitlock alright?" 
 
"I'm afraid I can't comment on that," he answered. "I need to ask some questions. Can you 
confirm Jasper Whitlock's whereabouts over the last few hours?" 
 
"Yes, sir," Edward said. "We were all at a dinner party at a friend's house." 
 
"What time did Mr. Whitlock arrive?" 
 
"Around seven," Alice answered. 
 
The officer nodded. "I'll need the phone number for your friends." 
 
Edward pulled his cell phone out and gave him Emmett's cell phone number. 
 
"Okay, thank you. We may need to contact you again. Thank you for your cooperation." He 
closed his pad and walked back toward the other officer. Jasper looked… shocked. Shocked and 
afraid and grief-stricken. After he shook hands with the police, he turned and came toward us. 
He sat next to Alice without a word, his hands shaking as he tried to steady them by gripping his 
knees. 
 
"Jaz?" Alice squeaked. 
 
"She's gone." His voice was flat and strangely angry, tears running down his face. 
 
Without a word, Edward moved next to Jasper and they cried together, Jasper clinging to him as 

they mourned the woman I knew Edward considered family. Alice held my hand. I felt awkward; 
I had never met Jasper's mother, but I certainly ached for Jasper. I remembered vividly what it 
felt like to lose my mother, and I missed her every day. 
 
Jasper pulled away and wiped his arm across his face. "The police say she was murdered." 
 
Alice gasped loudly while Edward pushed himself to his feet. "What? Was it a break in or 
something?" 
 
"Well, I guess that's what it looks like," Jasper nodded. "One of the neighbors heard some weird 
noises coming from the apartment. I guess he thought Mom was having some sort of a breathing 
problem. The front door was open." He paused and clenched his fist in his hair. "At first he 
thought she'd had a heart attack or something. She wasn't breathing, so he called an ambulance. I 
guess the doctors saw signs that she'd been smothered or something, so they called the police." 
 
We all sat silently, trying to process the awful news. I knew from experience there was nothing I 
could say to make Jasper feel any better. I got drunk when my mother was killed. I didn't know 
Jasper well enough to know what he'd want to do, but I could at least call the strip club for him. 
It was something small, but it would be one less thing for him to deal with. 
 
"Jasper," I said. He looked at me with bloodshot eyes. "If you give me your phone, I'll call work 
and explain that you won't be in." 
 
He smiled a little and passed his phone to me with a murmured, "Thank you." 
 
I quickly called and talked to the manager as I watched Edward and Jasper talk quietly. Alice sat 
by Jasper's side and rubbed his back. When I was finished, I quickly called Emmett and Rose to 
give them an update. 
 
Edward didn't want Jasper to be alone, and I knew he probably wouldn't be allowed back in his 
apartment tonight anyway – it was a crime scene now. Edward invited him to stay at his place; 
we all shared a cab back to the apartment building. 
 
Jasper curled up on the couch like a little boy, and Alice pulled a blanket up over his shoulders 
and sat down near his head. The stress of the night hadn't helped her either, and she promptly fell 
asleep with her arm thrown over his shoulders. 
 
I snuck back into my apartment to get something to sleep in; Edward asked if I wanted to stay 
overnight in his apartment so we would all be close at hand for Jasper. As I opened my door, I 
picked up a photo that lay on the floor. I didn't recognize it – it was of an older woman with 
short, gray hair. Maybe it had gotten knocked under my door by accident or mistake. 
 
My pajamas tucked under my arm, I walked back through Edward's door and handed him the 
photo. "Do you know who this is? It was on the floor of my apartment." 
 
He frowned and looked at me, puzzled. "What's a photo of Mrs. Whitlock doing in your 

apartment?" 
 

 

13. 

 

 
There was an uncomfortable silence on the phone as I attempted to process the information just 
given to me. 
 
"What do you mean, you think Sam Uley has left town?" I shrieked. Little black dots danced in 
front of my eyes and my breath was ragged; hearing the words punched me square in the 
stomach. Edward had sat bolt upright in bed when I yelled, looking around wildly and then 
sinking back onto the bed with a low moan. He knew better than to make a sound when Charlie 
was on the phone, but I wasn't exactly prone to screaming. 
 
"Don't get excited, kid." Charlie's voice was gruff over the phone. "I have no confirmation that 
he's on his way to you. Just be extra careful. Step up your work with Garrett, maybe do a little 
extra target practice." 
 
"Whatever, Charlie. Thanks." I flipped the phone shut abruptly and pressed my knuckles into my 
mouth to stop myself from freaking out. Crying, screaming, running, packing… they all seemed 
like viable ideas in that moment. 
 
Edward's hand found my hip to stroke it lightly. I think he meant it to be distracting, and 
normally any time he touched me like that I would be diverted… but this was serious. The only 
things in my head was images of me being beaten to a bloody pulp. 
 
"Bella, what's wrong?" Edward asked. When he realized his hands on my skin hadn't magically 
made me forget my phone call with Charlie, he was instantly concerned. 
 
I crawled down on the bed next to Edward to curl up against his side, my head practically in his 
armpit. Edward's arm draped over my waist; I wished I could just stay there forever. Maybe if I 
just lived under his bed, I'd never be found. 
 
"Bella?" he prompted again. 
 
"Charlie says he thinks the guy Jake hired to come after me has left Philadelphia, but he doesn't 
know where he went. He might be coming here to kill me, or he might have taken a vacation to 
Disney. Who knows? But I'm supposed to continue on with this routine that Charlie has set up 
for me and pretend everything is alright." Saying it out loud made it ten times worse, but I 
managed to keep the tears from leaking out of my eyes. I was at least having some success in not 
bursting into hysterics every time I was sure death or a beating was imminent. 
 
"If your father isn't worried, I don't think you should worry, either," Edward said, stroking my 

hip. "Everything will be fine." 
 
I held on to his words all week, through my sessions with Garrett, suffering through my shifts at 
the dispatch office, even standing next to Edward at the funeral for Mrs. Whitlock. 
 
The funeral had been gut-wrenchingly sad. On some level everyone had been prepared for her 
death – Mrs. Whitlock was very ill. But no one expected her to be murdered. The police said 
there were signs of forced entry and an autopsy revealed that she had been smothered with her 
own pillow. But Jasper said they had no leads on who had done it, and nothing was missing from 
the apartment. 
 
Edward's mother and father had been at the funeral. Liz greeted me with a warm hug, her thin 
arms squeezing me tightly. 
 
"Maureen, it's so good to see you," she said with a strained smile, "although I'm sorry that it had 
to be under these circumstances." 
 
She introduced me to Edward's dad. He was nothing like what I'd expected. He was tall like 
Edward, but that's where the resemblance ended. Ed's face was full with heavy jowls and dark 
brown eyes. He was completely bald, although later Edward told me that his father shaved his 
head to avoid a noticeable horseshoe balding pattern. But, like Liz, Ed was very nice, and I 
instantly liked him. 
 
Jasper took the week off from work. I helped him and Edward clean out Mrs. Whitlock's room 
after the police released the apartment as a crime scene. Amid her old, crocheted lap blankets and 
faded house dresses, we discovered a truly fantastic life… even things Jasper didn't know. A 
photo album contained hundreds of pictures of a young Mrs. Whitlock dressed in bell bottoms 
and long, flowing dresses, her blonde hair straight and parted down the middle, long enough to 
almost reach her waist. In one, a peace sign was painted on her cheek, and she and several others 
posed in front of a city sign that read "Woodstock." 
 
Jasper had been stunned. "I had no idea she was a hippie," he said, running his hands through his 
wavy hair. 
 
"It explains a lot," Edward teased. "I bet she smoked a lot of pot when she was pregnant with 
you." Jasper hit him in the shoulder and snorted. I could just imagine the two of them as little 
boys, running around and acting like hellions. 
 
Mrs. Whitlock had kept journals from the time she was 17 and kept every one. We found the 
diary that corresponded to the Woodstock photo, and I read aloud to Edward and Jasper the 
passages describing the three days she spent at the music festivals. Jasper cried when I read the 
journal entry about the day he was born, and Edward and Jasper laughed so hard they both cried 
when I found an entry about the time the two of them had accidentally burnt down their tree 
house in the back yard of Edward's parents' house. 
 
Jasper and I sat together on his mother's bed and talked about what it was like to lose a parent 

while Edward made a coffee run. He had never known his father, much the same way that 
Charlie had never been a part of my life, and both of our mothers had been taken from us too 
soon. I understood him perfectly, and he seemed grateful to be around someone who could 
appreciate what he was going through. I didn't feel weird about sharing that information with 
him, even though it did reveal something about my real life. 
 
Finding a photo of Jasper's mother in my apartment was still a mystery. I felt a little uneasy 
about it, but Edward assured me it was just an odd coincidence. 
 
"You're suspicious if the mailman looks at you funny, Bella," he had said with a laugh. He was 
right, of course; I was less jumpy than I had been at first, but the idea of being hunted still filled 
me with terror, and anything odd or out of the ordinary tended to send me into a full blown 
panic. But Edward was insistent that I was just overreacting, that there was nothing inherently 
sinister about a photo of Mrs. Whitlock. I wanted to believe him, so I tried to convince myself 
that it was nothing. The whole week I had been noticing my surroundings, looking for Sam 
Uley's face on everyone I passed on the street – but there had been nothing there to be suspicious 
of, and I accepted that Edward was probably right: I was just being paranoid. 
 
Edward and I made plans to meet Emmett, Rose, and Alice out at the coffee shop down the street 
on Monday night. Jasper was feeling cooped up, so he decided to join us. Alice was thrilled – she 
hadn't seen him for a few days, and she swore the baby kicked less when Jasper was near her. 
Edward theorized that the fetus was gay and had a crush on Jasper. 
 
Edward and I arrived a bit early, arranging for a table big enough to hold everyone, and I ordered 
cappuccinos for the two of us. Alice came waddling in wearing what could only be described as 
a paisley shower curtain dress – it was shiny and looked to be made of vinyl, and the spaghetti 
straps appeared to be little silver chains. She took a seat and sighed in pleasure. 
 
"I feel like a heifer," she said, swinging her feet. "I've got about six weeks until I pop this sucker 
out, and I can't see my feet." She lovingly rubbed her belly through the shower curtain and 
signaled to the server for coffee. "Decaf!" she called after the woman's retreating form. 
 
"Your feet are still there, I promise," Edward laughed. 
 
Alice rolled her eyes and thanked the server when the coffee appeared. She busied herself 
adjusting it with cream and sugar. 
 
"I don't know how much longer I'll be able to work," she said. "My stomach keeps poking my 
clients in the head when I'm doing a massage. Mrs. Lutz told me the baby kicked her in the ear 
when I was leaning over to work on her shoulders the other day." 
 
"Do you get maternity leave?" I asked. 
 
Alice shook her head. "Not like what you consider real maternity leave, like with pay and all. I 
am going to try to collect unemployment while I'm out of work, though. And I do have some 
money saved up. I should be okay. I only plan to stay out of work for a month." 

 
Jasper arrived next, and I was happy to see that the haunted look was fading from his eyes. He 
had been sleeping on Alice's couch on some nights, Edward's couch on others – he didn't feel 
comfortable staying in the apartment where his mother had been killed. I couldn't blame him. 
 
"I think I'm selling the apartment," Jasper said when he had his coffee in hand. I had done the 
same when my mother died. The house immediately went up for sale, and I moved out to my 
own apartment. The sadness was just too much. I caught his eyes and smiled sadly at him. He 
squeezed my hand briefly from across the table. 
 
"Where are you going to move to, Jaz?" Alice asked. 
 
"You're welcome to stay with me if you sell the house and don't find anything right away." 
Edward gripped his coffee cup and fidgeted. 
 
Jasper pursed his lips and scratched the side of his head. "Well… I'm not sure what I'm going to 
do yet. That was something I kind of wanted to talk to you about, Alice. I was thinking that 
maybe we should find an apartment together." 
 
Alice was stunned into silence, and Edward and I looked at each other surreptitiously. 
 
"It's just that, well, I know you're alone in this baby thing… and I… I don't really have any 
family now." 
 
Edward grabbed Jasper's forearm and said, "You know that's not true. My mom and dad consider 
you a son." 
 
Jasper smiled at Edward. "I know, I know. But it's not quite the same. I just… I feel alone, man." 
He turned toward Alice. "We work kind of opposite schedules, so I can watch the baby instead of 
you having to pay for daycare. I can't cook like Edward, but I can manage to make a decent 
grilled cheese and heat formula. And you can whip your boobs out around me to feed the kid 
whenever you want, and I won't be at all interested." 
 
Alice laughed and threw her arms around Jasper's neck. When she released him, she asked, "So, 
are you proposing to be my gay house husband and surrogate baby daddy?" 
 
"Yeah, I guess I am," Jasper said with a grin. 
 
"Then I accept." Alice's smile was huge, and I felt a little weepy, as if I had just witnessed a 
marriage proposal. 
 
"Congratulations!" I raised my coffee cup to them. "Although I'm sad you won't be my neighbor 
anymore." 
 
Jasper laughed. "Well, it might take some time to find a place." 
 

Alice put her hands on her stomach. "Uh, we don't have a lot of time. I'm on a deadline here." 
 
Edward looked thoughtful as he drank his coffee. "You know, Jasper," he said, "you were only 
stripping because of the money. Now that the hospital bills won't be as high, you could quit and 
go back to the piano." 
 
Jasper stared at him for a moment. I didn't even think his eyes blinked. "I… I hadn't thought of 
that." A wide smile spread over his face. 
 
Alice pouted. "Aw, come on! No more spangled banana hammock?" 
 
He patted her on the back. "I promise to wear it around the house occasionally, or consider it my 
uniform when I clean the bathroom, okay?" 
 
She groaned and slapped the table. "It's times like these I wish you were straight. An image like 
that isn't helping my horndog pregnancy hormones." 
 
Jasper just kissed the side of her head and rolled his eyes. As they began to discuss apartment 
options, Rosalie and Emmett breezed in. Well, Emmett stomped in. He looked pretty upset; 
Rosalie just looked worried. 
 
"Jaz and I are becoming gay husband and straight wife," Alice announced as they sat; she had 
her back to the door and hadn't seen the murderous look on Emmett's face until he sat and turned 
to face her. "Oh my god, what's wrong?" 
 
Emmett clenched his jaw and spat, "I got fired yesterday." 
 
"Why?" Edward asked, his voice full of concern. "What happened?" 
 
"Are you okay?" I asked. I thought of Emmett's gingerbread cake and hoped the server came 
back for our order soon – my stomach was rumbling. 
 
Emmett scrubbed his face with his hands and folded his arms on the table. "Two days ago, Azie 
had a food poisoning outbreak. Management talked to everyone who got sick and determined 
that every person who had eaten dessert fell ill, so they started testing the desserts. My pastry 
cream was tainted with E. coli. They tested all of my supplies, and none of them contained the 
bacteria, so they fired me for somehow cross contaminating the cream. There is no way. None. I 
run a clean station." 
 
Rosalie slipped her arm around his shoulder. "Don't worry, sweetie. It'll all be fine." 
 
"It won't be fine, Rosalie," he said, gently pushing her arm away. "It's not that big of a town. 
People talk. I'm done here. I will never work as a pastry chef here again." 
 
Coffee was a subdued affair as we all comforted Emmett. It didn't make a lot of sense to me that 
Emmett's ingredients were fine, but his pastry cream was infected or tainted or whatever. Then 

again, I didn't know anything about bacteria or E. coli or whatever. 
 
Luckily, Rosalie's job as an event planner was secure, and she brought in enough money to cover 
the bills until Emmett could regroup and figure out what to do. 
 
Jasper and Alice stayed behind when we paid the bill and left. I think they wanted to talk alone 
about finding a place together; I wondered if Jasper knew who the father really was. 
 
Edward and I started the walk home, his arm around my waist. 
 
"I'm glad that Alice and Jasper are moving in together," I said quietly. 
 
He nodded. "Jasper really takes family seriously. He would have done anything for his mother. I 
know he thinks of Alice like a sister, so she and that baby will be lucky to have him around." 
 
"Do you know much about Alice?" I asked. I felt a little guilty for prying. Alice was entitled to 
her secrets, just as I was. 
 
Edward shook his head. "No. She never talks about where she came from or about the guy who 
got her pregnant." 
 
"She's from Kansas," I murmured. "She told me that once." 
 
"Really?" Edward's eyebrows were raised. "Huh. " 
 
I unlocked my door and pushed the door open, leading Edward behind me by the hand. Just as I 
closed the door, the floor shook a bit. Over the last four weeks there had been, as Edward 
predicted the first day we met, little tiny quakes that no one noticed except me and occasional 
earthquakes that other people remarked on. This one wasn't as big as the one my first night in the 
apartment, but it still scared the crap out of me. Edward just snickered when I threw myself 
against the doorjamb and clung to the molding as if it would save me when the roof caved in. 
 
He pried my fingers off the door and pulled me inside, closing it behind me and sliding the locks 
shut. I was tense, waiting for the aftershocks like there were the last time. The vibrations from 
the tremors that had just passed seemed to still be making my knees weak. 
 
"I can let you fret over a little shaking, or I could distract you," Edward said, his voice husky and 
low as he pulled me close to him and turned us before pushing my back against the door. His 
knee nudged in between my legs and his lips latched on to the sensitive skin of my neck, the 
worry going right out of my head. All I could think about was what would likely come next, the 
licking and biting and the undressing and the feel of his skin. Maybe I was getting a little more 
comfortable with earthquakes… or maybe the sex was really just that good. 
 
Edward flexed his hips into mine and let his fingers wander under the hem of my shirt, and I slid 
my shoe off to run my foot along the back of his calf. When I brought my foot back down, it 
bumped something hard laying the floor. With Edward's mouth dipping to my collarbones, I 

looked down absently to see what my foot had hit; it looked like there was a paintbrush near the 
bottom of the door, which was strange – I didn't own a paintbrush. Puzzled, I pulled out of 
Edward's arms with an apologetic smile and bent to pick it up. 
 
I handed it to Edward. "Is this yours?" I asked before kissing the soft skin exposed above the 
collar of his shirt. 
 
I felt Edward shake his head and smirked. "Uh, no… decided to take up baking? I've seen you in 
the kitchen, Bella – a new pastry brush won't help." He threw the brush onto the couch and 
returned his hands to my ribs while I slapped him in the shoulder for teasing me. As I backed 
him toward my bedroom, nagging thoughts picked at my brain. Perhaps Edward had accidentally 
dropped the pastry brush, but it seemed odd. As his hand closed over my breast, my mind 
quieted. 
 

 

14. 

 

 
For the next few days, I was a basket case. Edward told me I was just being paranoid, that there 
was nothing sinister about finding a photo and a pastry brush in my apartment. Maybe he was 
right. Something just seemed off to me, though, and I didn't think it was all just finding out that 
Sam Uley wasn't under Charlie's watchful eye anymore. Call it women's intuition, call it a hunch; 
there seemed to be something different in the air, and the worry was choking me. 
 
When nothing awful happened and Charlie didn't report anything dire, the urgency in being on 
hyper-alert seemed to ebb. Even Felix seemed less disgusting - his breath, while not pleasant, 
wasn't quite as offensive. Alice's weird pregnancy ensembles even looked eccentric, rather than 
crazy. Maybe I was just so relieved to have been wrong that my world was in imminent danger 
of collapse for the second time in a month, that I was willing to be at least slightly optimistic. 
I even accepted a lunch invitation from Rosalie. 
 
I took the Muni into the Castro to meet her at a little restaurant she liked on Third Street. 
Rosalie's long, blonde hair blew in the slight breeze as she waved to me from across the street. I 
had never seen her dressed for work before - the red suit she wore wasn't severe, but she looked 
very intimidating. 
"Hi, Maureen," she greeted me enthusiastically. I smiled and pecked her on the cheek before she 
slid her hand around my elbow, walking me into the restaurant. 
 
"How's Emmett doing?" I asked. 
 
She scrunched up her nose. "He's driving me insane. I realize that he's upset, and we both think 
that someone in the kitchen probably set him up... but Emmett without something to keep his 
hands busy is not a good thing. Do you know he tore apart the guest bathroom yesterday? He 
said he wanted to replace the floor - like he knows how to do that!" 

 
I laughed in sympathy. "Well, maybe you should just tell him to get to baking or something." 
 
"I tried!" Rosalie said, throwing up her manicured hands in exasperation. "He's swearing off the 
kitchen right now, although I don't think it'll last very long - he finds flour and eggs erotic." Her 
lips twitched as she raised an eyebrow. 
 
The server arrived, and we both placed our orders. Rosalie handed him our menus, and when the 
waiter was gone she turned to me and said, "So, Maureen... I know I've been sort of a pest about 
you telling me what's going on with you." I didn't say anything, so she continued. "Do you mind 
if I tell you why?" 
 
I shook my head and waited. The server came back to deliver our drinks, and Rosalie sipped her 
iced tea until he left. 
 
She pursed her lips and looked directly into my eyes. "I'm a pretty girl." 
 
Was this supposed to be a revelation? I knew Rosalie was attractive - she had a gorgeous figure 
and hair that always seemed to behave perfectly. I thought of my own ruined hair and was 
instantly jealous. 
 
"The town where I grew up is in Wyoming. Rural Wyoming. My father died when I was a kid, 
and my mother eventually married again. I thought he was nice enough, and he treated my 
mother well. I was pretty happy and had everything I thought I wanted." 
 
Rosalie flipped her hair over her shoulder and paused as the server delivered a plate of bread. 
"When I was in the tenth grade, my stepfather tried to touch me. He came into my bedroom, sat 
down on my bed, and told me how pretty I was. And then put his hand under my pajamas. I put 
up a fuss and he left pretty quickly. But it happened again. I tried to tell my mother, but she 
didn't want to believe it." It was as if she was talking about someone else - her voice was 
completely emotionless, and she had a serene smile on her face. "The next time it happened, my 
stepfather was bolder. I freaked out, of course... and then he slapped me. I made so much noise, 
my mom came running in and John said he had caught me trying to sneak a boy into my room." I 
reached over and squeezed her hand, not knowing if I should say something. 
 
She rolled her eyes and laughed softly. "It's so cliched, isn't it? The pretty girl and her 
stepfather." I couldn't understand how she was telling me all of this so... I don't know, but she 
didn't seem upset at all. Rosalie tore off a chunk of bread and chewed slowly. 
 
"So, anyway... the next morning I left a note for my mother, telling her exactly what happened, 
and I took off. I didn't have a lot of money. I mean, I was 16 years old. But I had enough to get 
me to California, and I ended up in Los Angeles, living on the street." I could not believe what I 
was hearing. This woman was completely together - she was the most confident person I'd ever 
met, and to know that she had gone through this and wasn't a mess made me respect her 
tremendously. 
 

"To make a long story short, I got sucked into doing porn." 
 
I think a little bit of tea shot out of my nose as I choked on the mouthful I had just swallowed. 
"What?" I sputtered. 
 
She laughed ruefully and tore off another piece of bread. "Yeah, I made porn. I was an underage 
porn actress, although they didn't know I was that young. That's the beauty of being pretty and 
having a good body - no one really cares if you're jailbait." 
 
It seemed really wrong, but my mind immediately pictured Rosalie in every porn movie I'd ever 
seen - which, admittedly, was not a lot, but what I had seen was fairly raunchy. I wanted to ask 
Rosalie what could possibly make her agree to do porn, but maybe it was better if she didn't tell 
me. Judging her was the furthest thing from my mind; I just didn't want to recognize my own 
desperation to survive and how far I would go to do so. 
 
"I was always really afraid my stepfather would see it and come after me, but I needed the 
money. At the very least, I never got into drugs like a lot of the other girls did. I did what I had to 
do to get my GED, and with the help of some friends, I managed to get out and do something 
with my life." 
 
My jaw was practically on the table. "Does Emmett know?" I asked. 
 
Rosalie beamed and nodded. "Yeah, I felt like I had to tell him. It took some convincing to stop 
him from tracking down my stepfather, but that's the only thing he really cared about. The porn 
didn't bother him. I mean, he was upset, but more about what made me land there to begin with. 
Emmett's a good man, Maureen. He really is. He loves me unconditionally, and my past doesn't 
matter to him a bit. I see that in Edward when he looks at you, too." 
 
I wasn't ready to talk about me and Edward with Rosalie. I did have some incredibly strong 
feelings for him - sometimes I felt like I couldn't breathe when we were apart. It seemed crazy 
that I could be in this position after just a month or so, and I still needed more time to process. 
 
Rosalie sighed and sat back in her chair. "I'm telling you this, Maureen, because I need you to 
know that you can trust me. Whatever it is you're going through, if you need to talk about it... if 
you need anything, I'm here. It may not be pretty or nice, but..." 
 
"Call me Bella," I blurted, and then immediately slapped my hand over my mouth. I hadn't meant 
for that to happen at all. It had just slipped out. "Fuck. Look, Rosalie, thank you for telling me. 
You're a much stronger person than I could ever be, but -" 
 
Rosalie shook her head. "You are surviving," she said emphatically. "Running or hiding or 
whatever you're doing, you're doing it because you feel you have to. I'm just offering you a 
chance to talk. If I'd had someone that I could have actually told, trusted to help me... maybe it 
wouldn't have seemed so bad. Maybe I wouldn't have done porn in the first place. I don't know." 
I opened my mouth to speak, but she kept talking. "Not that I think you're going to run out and 
do porn," Rosalie grinned, "but maybe I can help in some way." 

 
I cleared my throat. "I can't really tell you what's going on. It's dangerous for you to know, for 
anyone to know." 
 
"Have you told Edward?" she asked. 
 
"Yes." I took a sip of my tea, unable to stop the corners of my lips from turning up. "He knows 
everything." I felt guilty for talking about the threat that existed for anyone who knew and being 
happy that Edward was party to the secret, but he had really been the silver lining in all of this. 
My heart burst every time I thought of him. 
 
Rosalie nodded with a smile. "Good, I'm glad you're able to trust him. I know how hard it is to 
allow anyone to get close to you when you're running." 
 
The server delivered our lunch, and Rosalie didn't say another word about her past or mine. She 
continued to call me Maureen as if I'd never told her my real name. I wondered what ever 
happened to her mother and stepfather. Had they looked for her? Were they still looking for her? 
Had her mother eventually accepted the truth and divorced the man? So much sadness and pain, 
and yet Rosalie had turned out fine. Better than fine. She was happy and successful, and spent 
her life trying to help people. It was impossible to predict what my future would hold, but I 
wished fervently that I could come out the other side of this with some happiness... and Edward. 
When I got home from lunch, I sank down onto my couch and thought again about Rosalie. 
Edward was still working; he had been trying to keep it down ever since I told him I could hear 
him so clearly through walls of the apartment, but his lusty moans were still entirely audible. 
 
"Oh, yeah, suck it haaaaaaaaaarder!" his voice called out. 
 
Even though he was in the middle of working, I knocked lightly at his door. I just wanted to see 
him, be near him... even if he was talking to some perv, pretending they were having sex. He 
opened his door, his special phone sex headset in place, and beckoned me in with a grin. His 
script binder sat open on his desk, and he rolled his eyes before breathing hard into the 
mouthpiece. 
 
"That's it, just like that," he ground out and then stuck his tongue at me. 
 
I laughed softly and sat on the arm of the couch for a moment before letting myself fall back to 
lay on the couch. Despite the topic at lunch today with Rosalie, my heart seemed a little less 
heavy. Perhaps even telling her my real name had helped, but I was still nervous about letting too 
many people know. Rosalie had kept secrets, and I knew she would keep mine... but if Jake's 
hired thug found me, I worried what it could mean - to Edward, to Rosalie, to everyone. 
 
Edward's call lasted another ten minutes, most of which passed while I watched his mouth move. 
I had to ignore what was coming out of it, of course - the idea of another person servicing him, 
even if it was entirely in the professional capacity and over the phone - was not a big turn on for 
me. Still, his mouth was beautiful, the bottom lip just a little pouty. As I discovered one 
afternoon last week, the tip of my index finger fit perfectly into his defined cupid's bow. The feel 

of his lip against my finger had been both soft and rough; the stubble above his lip scratched 
against the pad while his soft lips were smooth. 
 
When Edward flipped his manual closed and removed the head set, I was on my feet in an 
instant, moving toward him purposefully. He hadn't shaved this morning, the shadow of his 
beard highlighting his jaw. He turned toward me and smiled, pulling me into his lap, his scruff 
brushing against my cheek. 
 
"How was lunch?" he asked before kissing the edge of my mouth. 
 
I didn't want to talk about lunch. Whenever Edward and I were alone together, it was as if we 
were in our cocoon, and nothing in the outside world mattered. I bit his lower lip and sucked it 
into my mouth while my hands slid to the soft hair at the nape of his neck. I could feel his smile 
as his mouth opened to mine and our tongues slid together, his fingers playing lightly on the skin 
of my back. It was just the two of us, and it was good. 
 
"Sweets, you're killing me," Edward said softly when we broke the kiss. In answer, I twisted 
around until I was straddling him on the chair, my chest flush against his. "Let's go somewhere." 
 
"Right now?" I raised my eyebrows and laughed. He wanted to leave the apartment now, when 
we were heading down the familiar path that would lead to his bedroom and some rather 
spectacular sex? 
 
He buried his head in the crook of my neck and drew the tip of his nose up the length of my 
neck. "I don't mean right this instant, silly. Maybe this weekend or next. Let's just get away." 
 
I would go anywhere with him. Well, unless he wanted to take me back to Philly, but I'd 
probably even consider that if he had some kind of a plan to keep me hidden and happy. 
 
"Okay," I answered, sliding my palms lightly up his chest. "Where to?" 
 
Edward smiled and leaned forward to kiss my chin. "We could drive down to Mexico or go to 
Vegas for the weekend. Or we could spend the weekend in Half Moon Bay - there are some great 
restaurants there." 
 
"Wherever you want, Edward, for as long as you want." I would never feel right taking him away 
from his family and friends, but the fantasy of the two of us running away together, hiding from 
Sam in South America and holed up in a little hut on the beach... well, it was nice. It was more 
than nice. 
 
He kissed my top lip. "Mmmm, I'll set it up. We'll get out of here for a few days, just the two of 
us." 
 
"Just the two of us," I repeated back to him as I ground my hips against him. My head was fuzzy 
with lust, but even so, my heart swelled. I hoped that whatever trip we took, we could be alone. I 
knew wherever we were, we'd be happy. 

 

15. 

 

 
The boxing gym smelled particularly piquant today. It was less corn chips and old socks, and 
more excrement and rotting food. It was tempting to hold my nose while Garrett tried to explain 
the fine art of breaking a hold without hurting oneself, but if he could stand to be in there without 
passing out from the stink, I figured I could survive. 
 
At the end of the session, Garrett walked me out of the gym, and I took great gulps of fresh air. 
 
"You're really doing great, Maureen," he said, patting me on the shoulder. "I think we'll move on 
to more physically aggressive attack scenarios next week. The idea is to put you in stressful and 
sometimes painful situations so you'll know you react." 
 
"Oh, goody," I replied. "Maybe I'll lose another chunk of hair." Earlier in the week, Garrett and I 
were practicing how to get out of a hold if someone had me by the hair, and I had instinctively 
pulled away – Garrett had tried not to laugh when I howled in pain, clutching at my head and 
glaring at the strands of hair in between his fingers. 
 
He grinned and waved me off before heading off down the sidewalk. I still wasn't convinced that 
any of this could really prevent me from getting beaten to a bloody pulp in the event that Sam 
really did find me. It made Edward and Charlie both feel better, though, and I sort of enjoyed the 
workout. I even really liked Garrett. 
 
My phone rang on the walk back to the apartment. Charlie's name flashed on the screen. He was 
the last person I wanted to talk to right now, but I dutifully answered it. 
 
"Hi, Charlie," I said, exuding about as much enthusiasm as I would for an emergency root canal. 
 
"Where are you, Bella?" Charlie sounded… worried. My eyes immediately darted around the 
street, looking for Sam Uley. 
 
"I just left the gym," I answered. "I'm walking back to the apartment. What's going on?" 
 
"Sam definitely knows you're in San Francisco. Get inside now, and do not leave until I tell you 
it's safe. I'm serious, Bella. He doesn't know exactly where you are, as far as I know, but you 
need to stay out of sight." 
 
My feet appeared to be frozen to the sidewalk. I couldn't make myself move. I heard what 
Charlie was saying, but the panic and terror had stricken me stupid. Everywhere I looked, I was 
certain that Sam was hiding in the shadows, ready to kidnap me and do unspeakably painful 
things. 
 

"Dammit, Bella, are you listening to me?" 
 
"Yeah, Charlie." I was practically hyperventilating. 
 
"Move your ass!" Charlie snarled. "Get your shit together, and go back to the goddamned 
apartment!" 
 
I didn't know whether to yell at Charlie for being an asshole or do what he was telling me to do. 
It was enough to jolt me out of my stupor, though, and I decided not to argue. 
 
"Okay, I'm moving," I said quickly, and I was. I practically sprinted down the sidewalk to the 
building, and ducked inside the door. "Alright, I'm home, Charlie." 
 
"Fine. I'll call you soon. Don't open the door for anyone, and be sure you have that gun with 
you." 
 
I peeked around the corner, but Sam wasn't there. Rather than taking the elevator, I ran up the 
stairs two at a time, panting by the time I stood in front of my door, fumbling with the keys. 
After I was safely inside the apartment, I locked up and considered moving something heavy in 
front of the door. Instead I picked up the phone and called Edward. 
 
"Hey, sweets," he answered. "How are – " 
 
"Edward, I need you. Are you home?" I interrupted. "Can you come here?" Should I hide in the 
closet? The gun was in the closet, so maybe that wasn't a bad idea… not that I had any intention 
of actually using the gun. Of course, if this thug broke into my apartment and was intent on 
doing me bodily harm, I might reconsider. 
 
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" There was an edge of panic in his voice that I'd never heard 
before. I wondered just how crazy I sounded. 
 
"Sam's here. He knows I'm in San Francisco. He's here." 
 
I had barely finished the sentence when the pounding started on the front door. "Let me in, 
Bella," Edward said over the phone. "I'm at your door." 
 
I hung up the phone and undid the locks as quickly as I could. Edward pushed past me into the 
living room and shut the door heavily. After locking up, he grabbed me by the shoulders and 
looked into my face carefully. 
 
"Are you alright?" 
 
"No, I'm not alright!" I was fighting back the tears so hard by clenching my teeth, I thought I 
might crack a molar. "The guy that Jake sent to do who knows what to me knows where I am! 
Charlie told me not to leave the apartment." 
 

"So… he doesn't know your address?" Edward's light green eyes gleamed brightly, and I tried to 
calm myself by counting the different shades of green in his iris. 
 
"Charlie says he doesn't, but that doesn't exactly give me a lot of confidence." I counted fifteen 
shades before the tears blurred my vision. 
 
Edward led me to the couch and I sat, my hand curled around my horseshoe necklace. He ran his 
hand through my hair and kissed my forehead gently. 
 
"Tea?" 
 
I nodded my head, although my stomach was doing jumping jacks. I doubted I could even 
manage to keep the tea down. Edward hustled around the kitchen, and my heart broke watching 
him. I would have to leave him. I would have to pack up my apartment and go, hide somewhere 
else… without him. We would never get to take our trip now. It would never be just the two of 
us again. 
 
The tears I'd been holding back streamed down my face, and I couldn't manage to quiet the sobs 
that wracked my chest. It had been selfish of me to call him to my apartment. I should have told 
him to head to his parents' house, to hide there until I could get away and make sure Sam knew I 
wasn't here anymore. If anything happened to Edward because of me I wouldn't be able to 
breathe. 
 
Now was not the time to sort out my feelings for him, but it would be silly of me not to 
acknowledge that I was a hundred percent sure I was in love him. It was shitty timing and a bad 
situation, and I wasn't willing to talk about it with Edward, especially not now. 
 
Edward set down a mug of tea on the table and sat down next to me, slipping his arm around my 
shoulder and hugging me close. I clung to his shirt, my fists curled in the fabric. 
 
"Baby, you'll be fine. I'm here with you. No one will hurt you." 
 
He couldn't know that. 
 
"You should go," I whispered into his collar, my voice thick with tears. "You should get far away 
from me. He could hurt you." 
 
"No, Bella. I'm not going anywhere. Hey," he peeled my hands away from his shirt and held 
them tightly, "I know you're scared, but I'm not leaving you." He kissed me, his lips soft and 
insistent. "Maybe we can leave for our trip a few days earlier… just get out of here, go." I shook 
my head. He needed to be as far away from me as possible. 
 
Edward's cell phone rang, Jasper's name on the screen when I glanced at the phone. He kept one 
of my hands while he answered it. 
 
"Hey, Jasper." Whatever Jasper said next made, Edward's forehead wrinkle in worry. 

 
"Is she okay? What happened?" I could hear Jasper's low rumble through the phone. 
 
"Alright… okay… no… I can't… okay." Edward hung up the phone and turned to me. "Alice 
was hit by a car. She's in the hospital." 
 
My brain exploded. This was too much. Sam had followed me to San Francisco, putting both 
Edward and me in danger. Now Alice was lying in the hospital. Combined with Jasper's mother 
being murdered and Emmett being fired… I gasped. 
 
Edward looked at me sympathetically and clutched my hand. "Bella, it's fine. The doctors think 
the baby is going to be fine, and Alice is just a little banged up. They're just keeping her 
overnight for observation." 
 
I couldn't even look at him, and I could feel my body going hot and cold. My hands were so 
clammy that when I ran to the door, I could barely turn the knob on the door. As I yanked it 
open, I prayed that I was wrong. I wanted to be wrong. There couldn't be anything there. I 
breathed a sigh of relief when there was nothing out of the ordinary on the hallway floor. I closed 
the door and sank down to the floor, my back pushed up against the doorframe. Edward stared in 
confusion; he probably thought I had gone insane, and maybe I had. Maybe it was all just one big 
coincidence. As I shook my head and laughed out loud at myself for jumping to conclusions, my 
finger grazed something under the edge of my couch. I slid the object out and screamed. 
 
Edward was by my side in a second, and we both stared at the sonogram picture. Alice had 
showed it to us just a few days ago. This was so much worse than I had even thought possible. I 
had to leave. Now. I had to pack my bags and run before anyone else got hurt… or died. I was 
sure Sam knew exactly where I was and who my friends were, and he was destroying their lives. 
 
"Jesus, Bella, you're white as a ghost. What's wrong?" 
 
"Edward, please… leave me alone. Go. Please." My voice sounded flat, even to me. I had 
somehow bypassed terror, fear, and anger in a split second when I saw his face, and had gone 
directly to eerily calm and determined to find Sam and just let him do whatever it was he wanted. 
If it would save Edward, I would do it. "Just… get out of town. Take everyone with you." 
 
"I told you I'm not leaving you." Edward gripped me by the shoulders and pulled me to my feet. 
 
"This is my fault," I mumbled. "All of it." I shrugged out of his grasp and crossed my arms. 
 
"What are you talking about?" 
 
I started pacing frantically, throwing my hands around as I ranted. "You don't get it! Think about 
this – Jasper's mother, Emmett, Alice… Sam knows I'm in San Francisco. After he goes after 
each of my friends, he leaves me a little clue – the photo, the stupid pastry brush, this sonogram 
picture. God, I have to just get this over with. I can't let him hurt you. I can't let –" 
 

Edward stepped in front of me and pulled me into a tight hug as I struggled to get away from 
him. "You don't know what you're saying, Bella. You're just scared. It doesn't make sense. 
You've only known us six weeks – why wouldn't he just go after you directly? You-" 
 
"For fuck's sake, what if I'm right?" I screeched. "Do you want to take the chance that he kills 
Liz and Ed? That something terrible happens to Rosalie? I can't do this, Edward. What if he 
comes after you next? I don't know why the guy would go after the people around me, but it 
certainly looks that way to me. I will hate myself forever for dragging you into this, for getting 
Jasper's mother killed." 
 
Edward released me, and wrinkled his forehead. "Bella, if it's true, running is not the answer." 
 
I looked away. I couldn't tell him that I didn't plan to run. I wondered what I could say to Edward 
to make him see reason. He was being so calm and it was making me nervous – did he not 
understand that he was in real danger? He'd have to get our friends out of town, convince his 
parents and Emmett's parents to go with him. I had enough money in my savings account to 
pretend that Edward had won a big vacation in Hawaii. They could all be away from this 
tomorrow. I could make that happen. I could just tell Edward I could hide better alone, and then 
just let Sam come to me and take me when everyone was truly safe. 
 
"Listen to me," he pleaded. "I know you're worried that somehow you're responsible, but maybe 
the answer is to just tell everyone the truth." 
 
"Are you on crack, Edward?" I said incredulously. "I tell you that a drug dealer is probably 
fucking with the people closest to me right now, and you think I should put them in further 
danger by telling them exactly what's going on?" 
 
His smile was growing wider by the second, and I wanted to slap it off his face. Why wasn't he 
freaking out? Why could he not grasp that his was real, and he needed to leave? 
 
"If you're right, what's the difference? We're all already targets, so why not give everyone the 
details. Give everyone Sam's picture. Knowledge is power." 
 
"As much as I appreciate you quoting Schoolhouse Rock to me, this is not Scooby Doo!" I 
shouted. 
 
Edward rolled his eyes. "Look, do you trust me?" 
 
"Yes, but you're wrong here. You have to get everyone out of town, and I have to go into hiding 
by myself… far, far away." My heart was hammering in my chest, and I was sure he could tell 
that I wasn't quite telling him the truth about my plan. 
 
"If you trust me… if you have feelings for me at all… you'll do this, Bella. I love you, and I can't 
let you leave me. Please… trust me." 
 
If Edward had been looking for a way to freak me out even more, he hit the jackpot. My eyes 

bugged out of my head and my entire body shook, this time not having anything to do with an 
earthquake. He loved me? 
 
"I'm sorry, what?" 
 
Edward cupped my cheek in his warm hand and kissed me. "I love you. This isn't the way I 
wanted to tell you, but I do. And I think you love me," he said confidently. 
 
If I told him I loved him back I wouldn't be lying, but I didn't know if it would help or hurt my 
cause to get him to leave with our friends and his family. Maybe if I told him that I'd meet them 
wherever they went in a week when I had slipped Sam. He wouldn't need to know. 
 
I took a chance. "I do. I do love you. But –" 
 
"No 'but,' Bella. I'm begging you, please try it my way. If we tell them and something else bad 
happens, I'll personally get everyone away. I promise." I was powerless against the sincerity in 
his bright eyes; he must have seen it in my face, because he went in for the kill. "We'll be 
together, Bella. I'll stand with you." He angled his face toward mine and our lips met in a warm 
kiss that lessened the resolve I had left. 
 
I nodded. "They're going to hate me," I said. "Edward, I got Jasper's mother killed. And 
Emmett… and Alice." 
 
"You don't know that." He was right – I didn't have proof, but I was certain it was true. 
 
When I didn't say anything else, Edward picked up his phone and dialed. "Jasper? Hey, can Alice 
receive visitors?" 
 
"Good… I need you to stay with her. Bella and I are coming to the hospital. We'll be there in 
about 90 minutes." What? Charlie told me not to leave. If I was staying put for the time being… 
but then again, what did it matter? If Sam knew where I was, he could just as easily kill me in the 
apartment or out on the street. 
 
He hung up and dialed again. "Hey, Emmett. Listen, can you and Rosalie meet me at the hospital 
at 8 o'clock? Yeah, Alice was in an accident… She's fine… the baby will probably be just fine 
too… no… no… Listen, can you call your parents and get them to the hospital too? I'll explain 
when I get there… it's really important... Rose's parents don't live locally, right? Okay, see you 
then." 
 
"Why are you making everyone go to the hospital?" I asked, confused. 
 
Edward smirked. "Well, let's just say you're right, and this guy is watching all of us. It's 
completely normal that we'd rush to the hospital to visit Alice. It makes sense to get everyone 
together there and tell everyone at the same time. I think it will be better in person, right?" 
 
I had to admit that his plan made sense. It wouldn't seem odd to have everyone together there. 

 
Edward was already on the phone with his parents, making the same request. 
 
When we arrived at the hospital, Liz and Ed were already there chatting with Jasper and Alice. 
Liz hugged me warmly, and I fought back the urge to push her away; I didn't deserve her 
affection for the danger I was putting them all in. She'd likely hate me after this. 
 
Alice looked fine with the exception of a small bump on her head. I hugged her, and nearly burst 
into tears. I could have cost her the baby. Alice could have died or been seriously hurt. The guilt 
was pushing up in my chest. It was all I could do keep myself from throwing my arms around 
Jasper's knees and begging forgiveness for his mother's death. I wanted to lock them all in the 
room and run away. 
 
Emmett, Rosalie, and Emmett's parents came next. I'd never met Emmett's parents; both of them 
were tall and broad, and his father had the same dimples. When everyone had been introduced, 
Edward closed the door to the room and cleared his throat. 
 
"Thanks for coming. This may sound really dramatic, but we may have an emergency." 
 
Liz clasped Alice's hand. "But honey, I thought you and the baby were going to be okay?" 
 
Jasper said, "They are, Liz. What's going on Edward?" 
 
Oh, god. This was going to go horribly, and I couldn't let Edward confess my sins for me. The 
vomit tried to rise in my throat as I said, "This is about me. You're all in danger because of me." 
 
Rosalie came to stand by my side and held my hand. For once, I was glad that she seemed to 
know there was something going on with me. 
 
"You might know that I moved to San Francisco to get away from an abusive boyfriend, but 
there's more to it than that." I told them everything – Jake, the trial, Charlie, Sam, everything. I 
felt sicker and sicker with each part of the truth I revealed. I might as well have been signing 
their death warrants. "Edward is the only person I told." 
 
I think everyone sensed there was more, because no one said a thing. I couldn't believe I had to 
tell them. "After Jasper's mother was killed, I found a photo of her in my apartment. After 
Emmett was fired, there was a pastry brush lying inside my door. Tonight I found Alice's 
sonogram picture under my couch. Charlie called me this afternoon to tell me that the guy Jake 
hired knows I'm in San Francisco, but I think he's known for a while and is targeting my friends. 
Everything that's happened is my fault." 

 

16. 

 

 

Liz's hands flew to her mouth, covering up what I guessed was revulsion and horror. She 
probably hated me – the last thing any mother wants for her son is a girlfriend with my kind of 
baggage. I was shocked when she walked to me and put her bird-like arms around me 
protectively. As tiny as she was, I felt her energy course through me. 
 
"Oh, Maureen! You poor girl." 
 
Had she not heard a single word I said? I was responsible for a death, an accident, and the 
devastation of a career. Who knew what else Sam might be planning? He could be at their house 
right now, planting a bomb or screwing around with their cars. I wanted to push her away from 
me, to put as much distance between us as I could, but her comforting touch was something I 
needed too much. 
 
Rosalie continued to hold my hand amid the din of murmurs that sounded around the room after 
my announcement. I was so grateful for her strength in that moment – even though Edward knew 
everything and had been wonderful through all of this, Rosalie understood in a way that he 
couldn't. 
 
"My name isn't Maureen. It's Isabella Swan. Bella." 
 
I looked at Jasper, trying to judge his reaction to hearing that his mother was dead because of me. 
Alice was clutching his hand, and Jasper's eyes focused somewhere around the neighborhood of 
my feet. His face didn't give away what he was feeling, but he looked lost in thought. 
 
I was so focused on Jasper, I didn't notice that Emmett's face had turned red. 
 
"Uh, Mo… Bella… whatever. Would you like to explain to me exactly what you have to do with 
me being blackballed in the entire city of San Francisco?" His voice was steely and low, his eyes 
glaring at me. His parents didn't look much happier, not that I could blame them. Edward stepped 
in front of me and put a hand on his shoulder. 
 
"I don't think she has anything to do with it," he said. "Bella has this crazy idea in her head that 
this guy that's after her is behind everything that's been happening, that somehow this guy is 
trying to take everyone out to punish her, I guess. She's got no proof – " 
 
"Edward, how else do you explain the little gifts he left at my apartment?" I snapped. Turning 
back toward Emmett, I said, "You can't possibly know how sorry I am." 
 
Emmett clenched and unclenched his fists. "Yeah, me too. I'm sorry you ever showed up here." 
My stomach was in knots, and I wanted to be upset with Emmett, but I deserved his hatred. He 
pushed past Edward and stalked out of the room. Rosalie squeezed my hand and shot me a 
repentant look before rushing after him. 
 
"Bella?" Alice squeaked. I looked at her and she motioned me closer to the bed. Tears prickled at 
the corners of my eyes as I inched toward her and away from Liz's warmth. God, she could have 
been killed. I almost wanted her to spring from the bed and hit me. "I think Edward's right. 

There's no way you can know if any of this is related." 
 
My mouth opened to protest, but she reached out her hand; I moved close enough for her to 
touch my arm. "The pastry brush was me, Bella. I like using pastry brushes to paint furniture. I 
had a few when I was in your apartment the last time, but one probably fell out of my bag." 
 
What? 
 
"See, I told you, sweets," Edward said to me. 
 
Jasper lifted his eyes to mine, and I very thoroughly went to pieces out of sheer relief. Maybe I 
had been wrong… at least on one front. 
 
"Bella… do you… do you really think this guy killed my mother?" he asked. 
 
Edward handed me a tissue, and I blew my nose, hoping I didn't gross anyone out by having snot 
on my face. I really did think Sam had something to do with Mrs. Whitlock's death; I was sure of 
it. But Edward was right in that I had no proof. And if Alice had dropped the pastry brush in my 
apartment, maybe I was just being paranoid. But the feeling in the pit of my stomach told me 
there were no coincidences – I was sure that Sam was responsible in some way. 
 
"I don't know, Jasper," I said, trying to convey how sorry I was with my eyes. "All things 
considered, I think it's entirely possible. I do think she's probably dead because of me." 
 
Jasper went back to looking at my feet. I didn't know what to say, so I just said, "You can't know 
the guilt I feel, Jasper. If I could do this all again, I'd have gone somewhere deserted… 
someplace I couldn't have ruined so many lives. I'm so sorry." 
 
"Honey, I know you didn't want any of this to happen," Jasper said, his voice thick with emotion. 
"I won't pretend I'm not upset about my mother, but you didn't know. You didn't know. I'm still 
your friend, Bella." He seized me in a fierce hug and whispered quietly, "You couldn't have 
known." 
 
I hadn't heard Emmett come back into the room, but he was there beside me, his hand at my 
waist. "I'm sorry, Bella," he said, his voice sincere. "I never meant to… I know, I mean, even 
if…" 
 
"I don't think Bella's situation had anything to do with it," Alice said. "I'm pretty sure I left the 
pastry brush in her apartment. It has to be just a coincidence." 
 
"I don't care," he said, his eyes sincere. "I shouldn't have said what I did." He lowered his voice 
and said to me, "Especially after what Rose has been through." I smiled shakily at him, amazed 
at the generosity of my friends. I wasn't so sure I'd have been as nice about this if I were in their 
places. 
 
"Regardless, this guy does know where Bella is, so we wanted to at least tell all of you and show 

you a picture. If he does come after any of us," Edward said, "you'll at least know what he looks 
like." Edward was acting too nonchalantly about all this for my tastes, as if he really didn't 
believe there was much of a threat at all. Even with Alice laying claim to the pastry brush, I was 
still sure something horrible was coming. 
 
Edward had emailed Sam's picture to himself before we left, and he passed around his phone so 
everyone could see the photo. I was relieved when no one recognized the man. 
 
"I know it's an inconvenience, but I'd like all of you to consider leaving town until I can make 
arrangements to get out of here," I said. I still thought maybe I could draw Sam away from 
everyone and ensure that my friends and their families would be safe. "I can pay to send you all 
on a cruise or put you up at a hotel... somewhere far, far away from me." 
 
Edward rolled his eyes. "I don't really think that's necessary, Bella – Sam probably has nothing to 
do with any of this." Even though he claimed to think I just had an overactive imagination, I 
could see him watching his parents carefully with a look on his face somewhere between worry 
and agitation. He was more concerned than he was letting on. 
 
"Shouldn't we call the police?" Emmett's mother asked. 
 
I shook my head. "My father says that the police can't really do anything to protect me or anyone 
else until there's a real threat. Since I have no proof that Sam is even after me, well… some low-
life private investigator's claim that my abusive ex-boyfriend, who is now in prison, paid 
someone to destroy me doesn't hold a lot of weight. The most they can do is wait until something 
happens." 
 
Mr. McCarty turned to me and scratched his head. "But what about Mrs. Whitlock's death?" 
 
Jasper smiled ruefully and said, "There was no evidence left behind. There's nothing to tie this 
guy to my mother." 
 
I was grateful when both Emmett's parents and Edward's parents agreed to go out of town for a 
few days, although they declined my offer to pay. Liz even gave me a little hug and thanked me 
for giving them a reason to take a vacation. Considering Ed was an accountant, I was just 
grateful tax season was mostly over, otherwise I wasn't sure how willing he would have been to 
take a few vacation days – Edward once told me he was incredibly devoted to his clients. Both 
sets of parents said their goodbyes when I insisted they hurry; I wanted them away from here as 
soon as possible. 
 
I was still overwhelmed that no one other than Emmett had yelled at me or insisted that I was 
bad luck. It was shocking that Emmett had forgiven me so quickly. Emmett and Rosalie wouldn't 
leave town. Well, Rosalie wouldn't leave town – she insisted that she would never abandon me 
when I needed help. Emmett wouldn't hear of leaving Rosalie, even though I know he wanted to 
get them both out of town… just in case. Since there was no way to convince Rosalie to go, I 
insisted they at least stay in my apartment. I would sleep on the couch. It was either they hide 
somewhere away from San Francisco, or they hide with me so I could make sure nothing awful 

happened to them. 
 
"I'll move in with Bella," Edward said, shaking his head at me while he spoke to Rosalie. "You 
and Emmett can have my apartment. Jasper, will you move in with Alice until this blows over? 
Everyone can be close." 
 
I should have been upset that he'd just assume I would be okay with him moving in, but I was 
thrilled. We spent nearly every night together anyway, and I wanted as much time with Edward 
as possible before I had to leave him. Even though all of them would be practically living on top 
of me, I still knew I'd need to confront the Sam situation… and that would likely mean running 
again. 
 
Jasper agreed to move in with Alice when she was released from the hospital, and would stay in 
the room overnight with her. Emmett and Rosalie would be over to Edward's apartment in a few 
hours. I kissed Alice lightly on the cheek, and she grinned at me. 
 
"I'm so glad your name isn't really Maureen," she said with a laugh. "You just never looked like 
a Maureen to me. Bella suits you much better." 
 
"Well, just remember that I'm still Maureen in public, okay?" I said. She nodded solemnly and 
saluted me, another grin on her face. 
 
I was hesitant to leave her, but Jasper assured me that he would keep an eye out for anything 
unusual. I hugged him, silently thanking him for not hating me, and Edward and I quietly walked 
to the street, my hand in his. 
 
"How are you feeling?" he asked tenderly while we waited to hail a cab. 
 
How was I? I felt… terrified, guilty, ashamed, relieved. Confessing had been an exhausting 
experience, and my body felt like I had just run a marathon. Edward's arms around me were solid 
and comforting, something I didn't deserve. 
 
"I'm okay," I answered. "Well, I mean, I'm not. I'm a wreck. But I'm just so blown away." 
 
His lips were cool against my forehead. "Why, sweets? By what?" 
 
"Your parents. Emmett. Alice and Jasper. I can't believe I'm walking away from the hospital with 
all of them still my friends." 
 
"Baby, my mother loves you. She has from the second she met you – do you know how thrilled 
she was when I told her we were together?" Edward smiled and held the door of the cab open for 
me. 
 
I slid in and settled against Edward when he sat beside me. "That explains your mother, but what 
about everyone else? I can understand Rosalie and Emmett, but not Emmett's parents… and 
certainly not Alice and Jasper." 

 
"Do you think you're the only one who has ever had a secret? Or a bad thing happen to them?" 
 
I thought about Rosalie. She had certainly kept secrets, and so had Edward; his parents had no 
idea what he really did to make money. 
 
"No, but they certainly have no obligation toward me. I'm just surprised that they didn't write me 
off and flee in terror." 
 
Edward cupped my cheek in his hand and kissed the tip of my nose. "Bella, you've been a good 
friend to them. To all of us, actually. I love you, but do you think Alice – or Emmett, for that 
matter – love you any less? Well, I hope they love you differently than I do," he teased, "but you 
know what I'm saying." 
 
I shook my head and chuckled quietly while I snuggled into his chest, his hand gently tracing up 
and down my arm. His heartbeat was strong under my ear, and I closed my eyes, wishing that we 
had met under different circumstances. I wanted to be boring for him. I wanted to come without 
a hired hitman and an incarcerated ex-boyfriend. 
 
"Bella, will you promise me something?" he asked quietly, his lips against my hair. When I 
nodded, he said, "Promise me that you'll stay. Regardless of what happens with Sam… when this 
is all over for you, don't go back to Philadelphia. Stay with me." The tenderness in his voice 
nearly set off another crying jag, but I managed to stifle the sniffles that would inevitably lead to 
tears. 
 
I wanted nothing more than to tell him I would, but I couldn't even tell him that I wouldn't leave 
him tomorrow. If it meant that he and everyone else would be safe, I would go willingly to Sam. 
 
"All I want is you," I said. I was sure he could hear the sadness in my voice, but I hoped he 
wouldn't pick up on the desperation. 
 
The taxi stopped in front of our building, and Edward paid the driver. I looked around carefully 
while we made our way to the front door, but nothing seemed out of place. My apartment was 
still locked up tight, and nothing was amiss inside. I breathed a sigh of relief and sank down onto 
the couch. 
 
Edward locked the door, checking the deadbolt twice before he joined me. 
 
"I gave Emmett the key to my apartment," he said, "so we don't have to wait for him and Rosalie 
to get here. You can go to sleep if you're tired." 
 
I was completely drained, but I didn't want to sleep. I wasn't even sure that I would be able to 
close my eyes without seeing Sam hurting my friends. 
 
"I'm too worried to do anything but pace." I wondered how long it would take Edward's parents 
and the McCartys to get wherever they were going. I specifically asked them not to tell us or 

anyone else where they were headed – it would be better for everyone if it was a secret. 
 
"Well, I could let you sit here and worry, or I could distract you." Edward ran his hand up the 
inside of my leg, and before he could even reach my inner thigh I was in his lap nipping at his 
neck like a nymphomaniac in heat. 
 
"I don't want to think anymore," I whispered into his ear, sucking on his earlobe and squirming 
against him. "I'm so scared." My fingers were instantly at the buttons of his shirt, struggling to 
undress him. 
 
Edward pulled his glasses off and tossed them onto my side table, the clatter startling me for a 
moment. His crushed me to his chest, trapping my hands between us. 
 
"Don't, baby, don't be scared." His breath was hot on my face as he nuzzled my cheek with his 
nose. I arched against him, sliding my hands to his shoulders while I tried to get closer. I wanted 
to crawl inside his skin and hide. My nipples tightened at the feeling of his erection under me, 
one of his hands gripping my ass tightly. "I love you." 
 
If only Edward's love could make everything okay. 
 
His lips were warm on mine, his tongue insistent as we kissed, slowly at first and then building 
in intensity until I was practically tearing at his shirt. I ground my hips against him, his hardness 
pressing the seam of my jeans directly against my clit. I threw my head back, and Edward's 
mouth was wet against the column of my throat. He slid his hands up my back and curled his 
fingers around my shoulders, pulling me down even harder. 
 
"You feel so good," he muttered. A flash of heat raced across my skin, the lust in his voice a 
fleeting touch all its own. 
 
I pushed my chest away from his enough to finish unfastening the buttons of his shirt while 
sucking on his tongue. The muscles of Edward's shoulders twitched when I pushed the shirt 
down his arms; I slid my lips down to his collarbone, lightly grazing with my teeth as he kneaded 
the skin of my lower back. 
 
Edward whipped my shirt over my head before gently lowering me onto the coffee table, the 
wood cool against my back. He leaned forward between my legs and rested his cheek on my 
sternum for a moment before sliding his hands under me to unsnap my bra; he nosed it out of the 
way and dragged his tongue along the underside of one breast. I whimpered, and he moved 
higher to close his mouth around my nipple while he tugged the bra off my body. 
 
My hands wove into his hair as I moaned, his teeth teasing and biting. His fingers were at the 
waistband of my pants, and he unbuttoned and unzipped them quickly, pulling them and my 
underwear down and off my legs in one swift movement. 
 
Edward sighed and slid his palm from my navel to my neck. "So beautiful." He hovered over me, 
his hand against the table to brace him, and I palmed him through his jeans. Edward's eyes 

fluttered closed and a groan ripped out of him. He moved his hand down to my clit and circled it 
with his thumb before sliding his fingers between my lips and into me. I arched up again, eager 
for his touch. 
 
As much as I wanted to come, I needed to feel him in me more. "I can't wait," I panted. "Please, 
Edward." Our hands fought together to unfasten his fly, and the relief I felt when I had him in my 
hand was immense and complete. His dick was so hard and hot, burning my palm; he placed his 
hand over mine and we pumped him together. 
 
Edward lowered himself and slid into me in a single stroke as I gasped loudly and hummed low 
in my throat. 
 
"Bella, I want to hear you," he said, holding my eyes with his. "Want to hear your voice. Tell me 
you love me." His voice was almost pleading. "Tell me you'll never leave me." 
 
"I love you, Edward," I replied breathlessly. "I'm yours forever." Or until Sam kills me or I have 
to run away, I thought. A tear slid into my hair, and I hoped that Edward hadn't seen it. 
 
"Love me," I begged, my bottom lip trembling. I didn't deserve his love, but I wanted it… so 
badly. 
 
He sunk down until our chests were touching, and he kissed me sweetly, his tongue sliding over 
mine. "I do, sweets, I will. Always. Don't go." He pulled out of me and thrust back in slowly, the 
pressure building rapidly in the pit of my stomach. If I didn't know better, I'd swear he could read 
my mind – or maybe he just realized that I couldn't tell him I wouldn't leave, no matter how 
much I wanted to stay. 
 
Edward buried his face in my neck, moaning against my skin. I memorized the feel of him as my 
hands ghosted down the sinewy curves of his back and over the indentations just above his ass. If 
I had to leave, I didn't want to forget a single second, a single inch of him. I wanted it all stored 
in my memory, and if I had to go to Sam and let him have me, I wanted Edward's face to be the 
last thing I saw, his face behind my eyelids. 
 
I hooked my legs behind his calves and urged him to move faster, deeper, all the while fighting 
the sobs that threatened to tear out of me. I came quietly, arching against him and my lips 
moving wordlessly against his cheek as Edward grunted above me. He slowed his thrusts again 
for just a few moments and then quickened again, his forehead pressed against mine as he 
screwed his eyes shut. 
 
He pushed into me again and bucked his hips, a long string of words falling from his mouth as he 
came. "Love you, love you, love you, love you, love you, love you," he said over and over until 
he quieted, my heart stuttering with sadness and swelling with emotion. 
 
Edward opened his eyes and I gazed at him. "I love you," I said. "So much." 
 
He wrapped his arms around me tenderly, pulling me up off the table. I pressed my legs around 

him, not wanting him to let me go; keeping his arms about me, he carried me to the bedroom, 
shutting off lights as we went. We both slid under the covers, our limbs tangled together. I finally 
drifted off to sleep, my heart heavy and Edward's cheek pressed firmly against my chest. 
 

 

17. 

 

 
 
"My parents checked in this morning," Emmett said, his arm tightly around Rosalie. "They're 
good." His eyes kept darting around the apartment as if Sam was going to pop out of a dark 
corner and attack at any moment. This was the one place I felt safe; he was making me nervous. 
 
Edward flipped pancakes in the kitchen. "Mine texted," he called. "Everything seems to be fine." 
 
I was still exhausted and upset, my heart fluttering in my chest every time Edward smiled at me 
or kissed me. We had made love in the shower this morning, slow and sweet. I had clung to him, 
not willing to put even a centimeter of space between our skin. He couldn't see the tears that 
mingled with the water as it splashed over us, but he knew something was wrong. How could he 
not? I was basically waiting to be forced to leave him… or waiting for Sam to find me and take 
me from him. 
 
A knock on my door pulled me out of my thoughts. I stiffened, but then shook my head with a 
small grin. I seriously doubted Sam would bother to politely knock on my door. Rosalie caught 
my eye and smiled too as I moved toward the door. Through the peephole, Charlie's slicked back 
hair was visible, a toothpick clenched in his teeth. I stepped back in shock. What was he doing 
here? While I wasn't excited to see him, I was relieved. He wasn't a good father, but I was 
confident in his ability to protect me in ways that no one else probably could. 
 
I flung open the door, not thinking how I would explain Edward and my friends. Charlie had told 
me to lay low, to keep to myself. My heart stopped as Jake walked through the door behind him, 
his dark hair cut into a crew cut and a dark bruise on his cheek. The rage that coursed through 
my veins burned me, and before I could stop to think about it, I stepped back and drove my fist 
into his solar plexus with every bit of power I had. Jake sank like a stone, gasping for air like a 
fish, and I kicked him as hard as I could in the ribs. I wanted to hurt him, ruin his life… break 
him like he had broken me. I was pissed. 
 
I realized with a start that it was loud – everyone seemed to be shouting, including me. I was 
screaming obscenities, calling Jake all sorts of names. I couldn't believe he was here, and then I 
remembered that Charlie brought him. I whirled on him, completely incensed, prepared to ask 
him just what in the hell he was thinking and saw he was pointing a gun at Emmett and Rosalie. 
 
"Charlie!" I screamed. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" I swatted at his shoulder, 
reaching for the gun. 

 
"Have you lost your mind, Bella?" he yelled at me, lowering the gun just a bit. "Did Aro not 
teach you anything?" 
 
Edward inched toward Charlie from the kitchen, but Charlie wheeled around. "Don't you move, 
buddy," he growled. "What in the hell is going on here?" 
 
"That's it!" I hollered. "Charlie, give me the gun… right now!" 
 
Jake croaked out my name, and I whirled on him, stomping on his ribs with a satisfying crack. I'd 
have to give Garrett a muffin basket or something if I ever saw him again – I had definitely 
learned more than I thought. 
 
Edward barked out a sharp laugh, and Charlie said wryly, "Well, I can see Garrett did his job. 
Nice work, although you'll want to let up on Jake – I busted him out of prison to help with Sam." 
 
I whipped my head around to look at him incredulously. "Are you on crack, Charlie? And will 
you kindly stop pointing that goddamned gun at my friends?" 
 
Charlie rolled his eyes, but lowered the gun and stuck it in a holster hidden inside his coat. 
 
"Thank you," I said emphatically. I turned to Rosalie and Emmett, Emmett's face completely 
livid as he stared hard at Charlie. Rosalie seemed completely nonplussed, and I wondered if that 
was the first time she'd had a gun in her face. "Sorry about him. This is Charlie, my father. 
Charlie, this is Rosalie and Emmett." I moved to touch Edward's arm, and he kissed my cheek. 
"This is Edward." 
 
Charlie raised his eyebrows. "Bella, I sent you here to hide, not make a new life for yourself and 
find a boyfriend. Jesus, how many people know what's going on?" 
 
"Dial it back, Charlie," I said, clasping Edward's hand tightly. "These are good people, and I'm 
pretty sure Emmett was fired because of me." 
 
There was another knock on the door, and I stepped over Jake, who was still lying on the floor, 
to peek out into the hallway. It was Alice and Jasper. 
 
Charlie grumbled as I answered the door, but the gun stayed in its holster. 
 
"Hey guys, good timing," I greeted them snarkily and let them in. "My father just got here with 
the douchebag who hit me, ruined my life, and hired Sam." Alice looked good, aside from the 
bruise on her head, although now her eyebrow was raised as she looked at me as if I had gone 
insane. "Jasper, meet Jake," I said, somewhat hysterically, pointing to the floor. "Perhaps he'd 
like to explain why Sam killed your mother. Oh, and Alice, you're welcome to take a crack at 
him for you becoming roadkill." I wanted to kick Jake again, but my foot kind of hurt from the 
last time. 
 

Charlie's eyes were wide. "What the hell is going on here, kid?" He shot a murderous glance at 
Jake, who wisely chose to keep his mouth shut. I was still completely irate that Charlie had 
brought him here. 
 
"Mr. Swan, can I get you some coffee or something?" Edward asked politely. 
 
My eyes swiveled toward Edward quizzically. Why on earth would he go through the niceties 
with Charlie, especially with Jake lying at my feet? 
 
"I'd like some tea, Edward, if you don't mind," Alice chirped. 
 
Charlie crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. 
 
"Alright, here's the deal, Charlie," I said, my hands on my hips as I stared right back. "I'm pretty 
sure Sam has been in San Francisco for a few weeks and watching me closely. Shit's been 
happening to my friends, and I'm pretty sure that Sam is behind it." 
 
"What kind of shit?" Charlie demanded. I had a flash of guilt for not telling Charlie any of this 
before, but how the hell would I have explained the fact that I was clearly not laying quite as low 
as he told me? 
 
"It started with Jasper," I said, looking apologetically in his direction. "His mother was 
murdered. About a week later, someone sabotaged Emmett, and he was fired from his job. And 
then yesterday Alice was hit by a car." 
 
Charlie pursed his lips, the toothpick wiggling dramatically. "Why do you think Sam has 
anything to do with it?" 
 
Edward handed Alice a cup of tea. "I think Bella's just being paranoid." 
 
"Boy, don't you doubt my daughter." Charlie narrowed his eyes and scowled. 
 
Oh, for the love of… this was ridiculous. I was quickly coming to the end of my patience and a 
heartbeat away from having a breakdown. Now was not the time for Charlie to attempt to act 
fatherly. 
 
"Back off," I said to Charlie while Edward leaned against the doorway of the kitchen. "Look, I 
admit that there's no proof, but I think Sam is up to his eyeballs in this. I'm not sure why he 
would go after my friends instead of just killing me, but –" 
 
"That's just like him-" Jake started, sputtering on the floor. 
 
"Shut up!" Charlie and I both yelled at him at the same time. Alice snickered and sat down 
heavily in the armchair. 
 
"The reason I think it's more than coincidence," I said to Charlie, staring daggers at Jake, "is 

because after Mrs. Whitlock was killed, I found a picture of her just inside my door. And when 
Emmett was fired, there was a pastry brush, although Alice swears she probably just dropped it. 
After Alice was hit yesterday, I found her sonogram picture halfway under my couch." 
 
"You, little pregnant girl," Charlie said, turning toward Alice, "you're sure the pastry brush was 
yours?" 
 
She nodded emphatically. "I can't be one hundred percent sure, but I'm pretty positive. But I 
know I didn't leave my sonogram here." 
 
"Charlie, could you please tell me why you felt it necessary to bring Jake here?" I asked, trying 
to keep myself from yelling again. 
 
"Oh, uh, yeah," Charlie said, flashing me his gold tooth. "Can't imagine you'd be too thrilled to 
see him. I'm not too fond of him myself." 
 
When I didn't share in Charlie's mirth, he sobered up and continued. "Well, it seems as if Jake 
found a conscience in prison." He looked at Jake menacingly, and I sincerely hoped that awful, 
terrible things had happened to Jake in prison. "He got in touch with Sam to call off the hit, but 
Jake here managed to hire a mentally unstable low life." 
 
"Shocking," I said sarcastically. 
 
"He thinks he's in love with you, Bella," Jake said quietly from the floor. "I'm so sorry." 
 
I wheeled on him, ready to attack him again, but Edward slipped his hand around my waist in 
restraint. "You don't get to talk to me!" I yelled. I'd had it. I wanted him out of my apartment. 
 
"The bottom line is," Charlie explained, "that Sam is obsessed with you, and it wouldn't surprise 
me that he's trying to take out your friends. If he knows you're dating this guy," he jerked his 
thumb toward Edward, "I'm surprised he hasn't gone after him yet." 
 
My heart raced, and I clutched at Edward's arm to pull myself closer to him. My head was fuzzy 
with panic again; I considered digging the gun out of my closet - I would protect Edward. I had 
to. 
 
"Bella, are you listening to me?" Charlie asked, waving his hand in front of my face. "Jesus, 
kid." 
 
"What?" I asked. I couldn't let Sam hurt Edward. "So... what are you and Jake," I spit out his 
name through gritted teeth, "supposed to do about this Sam situation?" 
 
Charlie looked at me thoughtfully. "Well, Jake said he might be able to help find him, said he 
knew the names of some people this Sam guy knows. So far, though, he's been about as helpful 
as a sack of hammers. I'm about ready to just turn his dumb ass over to the authorities and do 
things on my own." 

 
If it meant Jake would be back in prison immediately, I was all for it. However, if Jake could 
help locate Sam, I wanted him to be doing that. He owed me. 
 
Charlie turned to Edward. "Can I trust you to keep Bella in this apartment until I give the word? 
Don't let her out of your sight?" 
 
"Charlie, I'm standing right here," I said, rolling my eyes. "I think I can look after myself, thank 
you very much!" 
 
Edward just grinned and rubbed my shoulder. "Seriously, sir. I'm pretty sure she can kick my 
ass." 
 
Charlie harrumphed and looked toward Emmett. "Yo, Gigantor. Think you can handle keeping 
the little girl in the apartment?" 
 
Emmett's face turned purple as he struggled not to laugh under my glare. I considered showing 
Charlie what Garrett taught me about targeting the groin, but controlled the urge. After all, he 
needed to be out there finding Sam, and I didn't think a damaged scrotum and a limp would help. 
 
Charlie hauled Jake to his feet and pulled him toward the door. "Bella, don't put up a fuss. Just sit 
down and let me deal with this." He pushed Jake out into the hallway and paused. Charlie took a 
few steps toward me and leaned in like he was going to hug me. I froze and took a half step 
away. 
 
"What do you think you're doing, Charlie?" I asked stiffly. 
 
A look I couldn't interpret passed over Charlie's face, and he slammed the door behind him as he 
left. "Lock the goddamned door!" he yelled from the hallway. I was immediately sliding the 
deadbolt shut and slipping the other locks closed. 
 
"So," Edward said with a smirk, "that was your father? He's, um, charming." 
 
"Shut up, Edward," I said, my lips twitching. 
 
Alice started giggling, and then Rose started in. Jasper joined them next, and Edward... Emmett 
was the last holdout, although it looked like he might have an aneurysm any second from trying 
not to laugh. Resistance was futile, though, and even I started laughing. After everything that had 
happened over the last twenty-four hours, we were all in hysterics. It felt good to laugh, and I 
was still absolutely shocked that my friends were still with me. 
 
There were tears running down Jasper's face as he gasped, "And Jake! What the hell possessed 
you to date someone with hair like that? It looks like a Halloween wig!" 
 
Rose and Emmett laughed all the harder, Alice practically howling. Edward slipped his arms 
around my waist again and laughed softly in my ear. 

 
As the laughter died down, I wondered what the hell we were supposed to do in my apartment 
while Charlie did his thing. I didn't have a deck of cards, and there was barely any food in the 
house. I had tea, a bag of pretzels, and a half-empty bottle of tequila, and it didn't seem like the 
smartest idea to get wasted while there was a love-crazed thug on the loose and a loaded gun in 
the apartment. 
 
Emmett picked up the television remote and found a marathon of Iron Chef on. It was better than 
staring at each other uncomfortably for the next twelve hours, so we gathered around my living 
room and watched. I sat on Edward's lap on the couch, my head on his shoulder. I allowed 
myself to think that maybe I wouldn't have to leave him after all. Maybe Charlie could end this. 
In the next moment, I was convinced that I should lock them all in my apartment and make a run 
for it in case Charlie failed. My head was a mess. 
 
Jasper and Edward eventually got sick of fighting Emmett for the last dregs of pretzels in the 
kitchen, so I ordered a pizza. Charlie probably wouldn't approve, but surely he didn't expect us to 
starve to death while he, well, whatever he was doing. Checking out dive bars, I assumed. 
 
There was a knock on my door forty-five minutes later, and I sighed in relief; I thought Emmett 
was going to start eating drywall or something. I looked out the peephole to see a bored looking 
guy with a pizza, so I unlocked the door. I was half-turned around making a snarky remark to 
Edward when the door knocked into me violently, catching me hard in the cheekbone. I flew 
backwards into the edge of the kitchen doorway as the man in the hallway crashed through the 
door. 
 
I couldn't see anything except his feet, but I heard screaming and Jasper yelling, "What the hell?" 
 
But over everything, I heard Alice's voice. It was high-pitched and filled with terror, and she was 
screaming, "No, no, no," over and over again. And then I heard her say, "How did you find me? 
You can't have him! No!" 
 

 

18. 

 

 
"Hello, Mary Alice, so nice to see you again." The guy that I had thought was the pizza delivery 
guy was standing in the middle of my living room with a gun; he had thrown the pizza box on 
the floor, the pizza half out and soaking sauce into the carpet. For a split second, I considered 
heading to the kitchen for a sponge and a paper towel – Charlie would never get his security 
deposit back. The horrible look on Alice's face was enough to get my head back in the moment. 
 
Alice crossed her arms over her stomach protectively, and Edward inched in front of her 
minutely while frantically looking over at me to determine if I was seriously hurt. I waved him 
off – my cheek hurt a bit, but I was fine… especially given the circumstances. I couldn't 

understand how today had turned into such a clusterfuck – first Charlie's waving a gun around in 
my apartment and now this guy. My mind worked furiously, trying to place him. Even though he 
knew Alice, I still half thought it was about me and Sam, as if Sam had hired someone to 
surprise me. 
 
"What do you want, Tyler?" Alice asked coldly. Even though Alice was putting on a good act, I 
could tell she was majorly freaked out. 
 
"Who is this guy?" Jasper asked. 
 
Tyler took a step toward Jasper and punched him in the face. Alice screamed again as Jasper fell 
onto the couch, clutching his nose. Emmett struggled with Rosalie on the couch – she was trying 
to keep him in place. Alice was clutching Edward's arm, thank god. I wasn't afraid until just that 
moment… and now I was scared out of my mind. I was hoping Edward could connect to my 
brain waves, which were pleading with him to stay where he was and not try to engage the 
agitated, gun-wielding nutjob. 
 
"Tyler, leave him alone!" Alice shrieked. Who the hell was Tyler? How the hell did he even 
know Alice was in my apartment? 
 
"Is this your new boyfriend?" Tyler sneered. 
 
Alice shook her head, tears in her eyes. "No." Her voice held a hint of hysteria. 
 
Tyler started frenetically pacing around the living room as he glared at Alice. "I can't believe you 
thought you could take my baby from me, Mary Alice. You're coming back to Claflin with me. I 
don't care what you do after the baby is born, but that kid is mine." 
 
"You don't know that the baby is yours," Alice said, her voice and hands shaking. "You were 
there, Tyler, there were three others." 
 
"It's mine," Tyler declared. "Now let's go." 
 
Alice set her lips in a grim line and shook her head. "No. I'm not going anywhere with you… and 
you're not taking my baby." 
 
My mind raced – I couldn't make sense of all that was going on. But the look on Tyler's face 
scared the hell out of me. If Alice didn't want to go with him, we couldn't let him force her to go. 
 
Tyler laughed nastily. "Any of you boys get a taste of Mary Alice? She sure is a tasty piece, isn't 
she? She fucking loved it." 
 
Edward glowered at him, and Emmett visibly stiffened as Rosalie restrained him. I couldn't 
imagine what must be going through Emmett's head right now – if it was anything like what was 
going through mine, he wanted to smash the guy in the face. I was feeling particularly 
aggressive, owing at least partially to the fact that I was still hopped up on adrenaline for kicking 

Jake's ass. 
 
Thinking about my ability to actually hurt Jake led to thinking about Garrett. I wracked my brain 
for anything he had taught me that might come in handy; the only thing that immediately came to 
mind is him telling me to scream like a little girl and do what my attacker told me to do unless 
someone was trying to kidnap me. This guy seemed to be trying to kidnap Alice, and we couldn't 
let that happen. I thought harder… maybe… 
 
Wait. The lesson clicked into my head with perfect clarity. I wasn't sure if I could get close 
enough to Tyler for it to work, and even if I could get out of the line of fire, there was no way to 
guarantee I could get everyone else out of the line of fire. Edward was staring at me. Well, 
glaring at me, actually. I had a feeling he knew exactly what I was thinking – maybe he really 
could zone in on my thoughts. 
 
My cell phone was in my pocket. Maybe I could dial 911. I wasn't sure what the police could do, 
though. They would be out in the hallway, banging on the door and asking if everything was 
okay, and we'd be in here with a crazy guy with a gun. 
 
Tyler started to babble, something about Alice and the baby, but I was thinking too hard to pay 
any attention. I just watched him pacing and waving the stupid gun, wishing there was 
something, anything I could do. Alice seemed to be shrinking into the couch with each word he 
spoke, and Jasper looked livid. Rosalie was tense behind a very angry Emmett. And Edward… 
he just kept his eyes trained on me. 
 
The first rumble was small; I felt the floor shake lightly. I seemed to be the only one who felt it. I 
looked up at Edward with wide eyes, praying to any god who might hear me to send a massive 
earthquake my way. If Tyler was from Kansas, a good earthquake would have to have some 
impact. Right? 
 
I slowly eased myself off the floor as Tyler eyed me warily. Holding my hands out in front of me 
in supplication, I hoped he could keep calm as I tried to get myself into a better position… just in 
case. Oh please, oh please, oh please, I thought. 
 
And then it happened. I sighed in relief as the tremors vibrated up my legs, growing stronger. As 
I had hoped, Tyler looked confused. I took a quick two steps toward him, but Edward muttered 
my name in warning. The rumbling stopped for a second, but the car alarms outside continued. 
In a split second, Emmett launched himself at Tyler, pushing his hand with the gun toward me. I 
moved quickly to slap Tyler's hand further out, and a loud shot sounded. Tyler dropped the gun 
as his head hit the wall with a deep thud, Emmett's body crushing him; the screaming in the room 
was deafening, Alice's sobs loudest of all. 
 
And then there was a near silence. The alarms seemed to all cease at the same time, only the 
sound of Alice's cries punctuating the quiet. 
 
"Fuck," I muttered. My arm itched; when I scratched it my hands were red. Oh, for the love of 
Pete! This day obviously couldn't be any worse. My arm didn't really hurt, so I assumed that was 

a good sign. I wasn't frantic and I wasn't upset – I thought maybe I was going into shock or 
something. I calmly thought, I should be more upset. Why am I not a basket case? Why am I not 
passing out? I'm bleeding. 
 
Rosalie was with me in an instant, kicking the gun away quickly and rolling up my sleeve to 
inspect my arm. I grinned at her and just laughed. She looked at me as if I had lost my mind, 
which I suspected I had. And then Edward was at my side; he was talking to me, but I couldn't 
hear a word he was saying. 
 
"Earthquake," I said to him, a smirk on my face. And then I was laughing again, the giggles 
pouring out of me as I clutched at my stomach with my good arm. His light green eyes were right 
in front of me, and he led me to the bathroom, Rosalie at his side. I didn't need to pee, so I wasn't 
sure why we were there. 
 
Alice stood at the doorway, her hands clasped over her stomach, tears running down her face as 
she watched Edward clean me up. It didn't look too bad – I thought the bullet had just grazed my 
arm. 
 
"You'll need stitches," Edward said to me tersely. I nodded and watched as Rosalie hugged Alice 
tightly; Alice was sobbing again. 
 
"Alice," I said. She looked at me, hiccupping. "Calm down. I'm fine, and… hey, is everybody 
else okay?" I was still eerily calm and it was beginning to make me nervous. 
 
Rosalie poked her head out the door and looked back at me. "The police are here. Alice, you'll 
want to come with me to talk to them, okay? Just stay here, Bella." 
 
"Okay," I said, shrugging my shoulders. What the hell was wrong with me? 
 
Edward pressed a towel to my arm, and I flinched, finally feeling the burn in my arm. 
 
"Sorry, Bella," he murmured. "You don't have any gauze. You don't have any first aid stuff." 
 
"Oh, sorry," I answered. 
 
"Jesus, sweets." Edward blew out a long breath and kissed the palm of my hand. "Are you okay? 
What were you thinking out there?" He seemed kind of angry and really scared. 
 
The burning feeling in my arm was growing, and I whimpered a bit. "My arm hurts." 
 
"I should say the hell so – you just got shot. Let's get you to the hospital." Edward put his arm 
around me and led me to the living room just as the police were putting a sullen Tyler in 
handcuffs and reading him his rights. A police officer was talking to Alice and Rosalie, and 
another was talking to Emmett and Jasper. 
 
Edward cleared his throat and announced, "I have to take Bella to the hospital – she has to get 

stitches." 
 
The officer who had been talking to Emmett and Jasper said, "You're Ms. Swan? You were 
shot?" I nodded as Emmett dropped into the armchair. 
 
"Bella, please tell me you're okay," he demanded, his head in his hands. "I'm so fucking sorry." 
 
I was confused. "Sorry for what?" 
 
"You got shot!" he yelled. 
 
"So?" I said, moving closer to him as Edward kept the towel pressed against my arm. 
 
"I tackled him and you got shot!" I thought Emmett might cry. 
 
"Hey, no," I said quickly. "My fault. As soon as you went for him, I tried to get the gun away 
from him. That's all me." 
 
"Um, Ms. Swan, we'll send an officer to the hospital to talk to you," the officer interrupted. I 
nodded. 
 
I shot Emmett a tight smile; my arm was really starting to hurt a lot. "Emmett, I'm good, really. 
Are you okay?" 
 
He rolled his eyes and grinned. "You're a piece of work, Swan. Go to the hospital." 
 
The ride to the hospital was brief. I didn't really want to go in an ambulance, but Edward and a 
police officer insisted. It was so dumb – the hospital wasn't that far away. The second I walked 
into the emergency room, I started to shake and feel sick to my stomach. It occurred to me that I 
could have been killed. 
 
"Bella, baby, are you alright?" Edward asked anxiously. 
 
I shook my head and turned my head to vomit into a conveniently located potted plant, a sweat 
breaking out over my forehead as I replayed the gun going off again and again. And then my 
eyes went fuzzy and everything went black. 
 
I came to lying on my back, something tugging at my arm. Edward's anxious green eyes were 
above me, and I smiled for a second before remembering I was in the hospital. The pulling was a 
woman in a white coat stitching my arm shut. 
 
"Ms. Swan, I'm Dr. Greene," she said with a reassuring smile. "You were very lucky – this is a 
very superficial wound. The bullet did only soft tissue damage and missed major arteries. There's 
no nerve damage or anything, just a bit of a burn on your skin from the gun." 
 
The doctor asked me a bunch of questions, and I answered truthfully, but my mind was with 

Alice. I hoped she was okay. And then I started thinking about Charlie, wondering how pissed 
off he'd be that I left the apartment. Not that I thought he'd want me to bleed to death or 
anything, but still… 
 
Dr. Greene dressed the wound and said, "Ten stitches, that's all. I'm going to put you on oral 
antibiotics, but you're going to be just fine. There's a police officer waiting to speak to you – 
shall I send him in?" 
 
As she left, the officer came in and quizzed both Edward and I about what had happened. He 
wouldn't answer any questions about Tyler or Alice, but did say that no one else had been hurt. I 
breathed a sigh of relief. 
 
A few hours later, the doctors let me go. Edward hailed a cab for us and I snuggled in close to 
him in the backseat; I was exhausted. 
 
"Don't do that to me ever again," Edward muttered. 
 
"Huh?" Wow, I was really articulate. 
 
"I'm serious, Bella," he said. "If you ever throw yourself at a gun again, I will kill you myself. 
Forget everything that Garrett taught you." 
 
I laughed gently. "You loved it when I hit Jake, who are you kidding?" 
 
I felt the corners of Edward's mouth turn up against the side of my head. "Well… it was a one-
time thing, okay? I can't stand seeing you get hurt." 
 
I didn't want to talk about me, and I was worried – everything with Sam was still brewing, and I 
couldn't promise that I wouldn't have to defend myself. "Have you talked to anyone?" I asked. 
 
"What do you mean?" 
 
"Emmett or Alice or anyone. Do you know who Tyler is?" 
 
He shook his head. "I think we can safely assume he thinks he's the father of the baby, but Alice 
didn't seem to think so. There's definitely a story there, but… listen, Bella – I don't think we 
should push her to tell the story if she doesn't want to." 
 
I looked at him incredulously. "I'm the last person to force someone to spill their secrets." 
 
"I know, sweets. I love you." He kissed my temple and smoothed my hair as the cab pulled up 
outside of our apartment building. 
 
An agitated Charlie was pacing outside of the apartment. I cringed and looked at Edward 
accusingly. "You called Charlie?" 
 

He shrugged with an embarrassed smile. "It was better than having a gun pulled on me for the 
third time in 18 hours." 
 
He had a point. Charlie looked pissed off enough. 
 
When I stepped out the taxi, he rushed to me and started yelling. "Isabella Marie Swan! Can't 
you keep out of trouble for six seconds? Jesus fucking Christ!" 
 
Edward stepped in between us. "Charlie! She was just shot! Give her a break!" 
 
I looked around. "Um, Charlie? Where's Jake?" 
 

 

19. 

 

 
My apartment smelled funny, like smoke and sulfur, and there was a bullet hole in the wall 
outside the kitchen. Everyone was still there, except the police. I thought they'd have been there 
longer - with Jasper's mom, they had forbidden anyone to enter the apartment for days, 
quarantining it as a crime scene. Maybe it was because no one had died here... thank god. 
 
Charlie hadn't answered my question about Jake, instead telling me to get my ass upstairs, the 
toothpick wiggling furiously in his mouth. He didn't seem quite so tense as he had been earlier in 
the day, so I thought maybe something good had happened. Maybe they had found Sam, and he 
and Jake had killed each other. That would be quite a permanent ending to all of my problems. I 
could stay here with Edward. I should have felt badly about wishing both Sam and Jake dead, but 
I couldn't bring myself to care. I just wanted this to be over. Finally over. 
 
Alice was resting quietly in my armchair, her eyes red and puffy, while Jasper, Emmett, and 
Rosalie sat around the coffee table playing Monopoly. Where had they found a Monopoly game? 
There certainly hadn't been one in my apartment. Jasper's eye was bruised where Tyler had hit 
him, but he looked okay. When I walked in with Edward and Charlie, they all stopped and 
started jabbering at me, inundating me with questions about how I was. 
 
"Uh, I'm fine," I said and then I grinned a little loopily - I was still a little out of it from whatever 
painkiller the hospital had given me. "It's just a flesh wound!" 
 
Emmett coughed a little and muttered, "Look, you stupid bastard, you've got no arms left!" We 
both giggled a little, leaving everyone else in the apartment staring at us like we'd lost our minds. 
I was a little disappointed that no one else knew Monty Python. 
 
"Be that as it may," Rosalie said, rolling her eyes, "you should sit down." 
 
Charlie slouched against the wall, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, and watched as Edward 

led me to the couch and I sat, Edward perching on the arm closest to me. I wanted to make him 
sit next to me on the couch so I could snuggle into his warmth, but I was feeling a bit odd. My 
arm really didn't feel badly at all, although my head felt a little funny, light and heavy at the 
same time. 
 
It occurred to me then that I had given my real name to the police and to the doctor. Well, I guess 
I hadn't. Emmett and Jasper had been talking to the cops when I came out of the bathroom; they 
must have given them my real name. I guess it didn't matter now anyway. Well, I hoped it 
wouldn't matter - with Charlie here, I hoped that all of this would be done soon. And then maybe 
I could be happy. And maybe my friends could stop worrying about being killed or whatever. 
 
"You, Alice, little pregnant girl - now that the gang's all here, wanna explain how you almost got 
my daughter killed?" Charlie demanded. 
 
An uncomfortable silence descended over the room as Alice's face turned purple and her bottom 
lip trembled. 
"Charlie," I said, exasperated. I really wanted to yell, but I didn't think I had the energy. "I do a 
good enough job of almost getting myself killed, thank you very much. You have no right to say 
something like that to her, especially after I got Jasper's mother killed. Remember Sam? And 
would you please tell me where the hell Jake is?" 
 
Charlie had the grace to look sheepish, but maintained his defensive posture. The toothpick was 
moving quickly as Charlie scrunched his forehead. "Jake is back in police custody." 
 
I swiveled my head toward him so quickly, I thought my neck might snap. "Huh?" There I was, 
being articulate again. 
 
"What happened with Sam?" Edward asked. 
 
"Did you find him? Did he kill my mother?" Jasper's voice was low but insistent. 
 
"Can I get that cup of coffee now?" Charlie asked Edward with a smirk. 
 
I mustered what little strength I had left and threw a pillow from the couch at Charlie's face. He 
batted it easily out of the way and grinned at me. "Screw the coffee, Charlie." 
 
"So edgy, just like your mother," he mused, looking me over with a weird expression in his eyes. 
"With your hair all blonde, you even look like her." 
 
"Yeah, yeah, just get to the story, Charlie." I was frustrated with Charlie talking about my 
mother. He hurt her and abandoned the two of us; it pissed me off that he was even thinking 
about her. Now was not the time to dredge all of this up, though; I was overemotional as is, and 
adding my family issues into this mess wasn't going to help. 
 
Charlie pursed his lips, tucked the toothpick behind his ear, and said, "Well, we did find Sam. 
Jake mentioned a couple of bars, real dives, as you mighta guessed - not that I have anything 

against a good dive bar." When I glared at him, he quickly continued. "Uh, anyway, Sam was 
absolutely piss drunk at a bar in the Tenderloin... and had been for weeks, it seems. Boy smelled 
like the inside of a whore house." 
 
"So... what does that mean?" Emmett asked, his eyebrow raised. "Could he have hit Alice with 
the car?" 
 
Alice squeaked and raised her hand. Charlie's eyes crinkled and he pointed to Alice. "Yes?" 
"Uh, I was at the police station for a while after they arrested Tyler. He confessed to hitting me 
yesterday. They found his rental car and confirmed it." 
 
I shook my head slowly. "But you said you were sure you hadn't left that sonogram picture 
here!" I was shocked at what I was hearing. I had been so sure that Sam was behind everything, 
and the photograph, sonogram picture, and the pastry brush in my apartment just confirmed my 
theories. Even now, hearing that Tyler had been the one to hit her and knowing that Alice 
thought she had dropped the pastry brush, I just couldn't let myself believe I had been so wrong. 
 
With an abashed look, she said, "I must have. I didn't think I did, but I must have. I'm so sorry, 
you guys." Tears trickled down her face, and Jasper reached up for her hand from his position on 
the floor. 
 
If what she was saying was true, it really changed everything. My big conspiracy theory about 
Sam was falling apart. On one hand, I was relieved - it might let me off the hook for Mrs. 
Whitlock's death and Emmett's firing. On the other hand, I had freaked everyone out and sent 
Emmett's and Edward's parents scurrying out of town for no reason at all. Not that it meant I was 
any less in danger from Sam. Well, maybe. If Sam was holed up somewhere in a drunken stupor, 
I doubted he was capable of doing much to me. 
 
"Wait," I said. "So, if Sam had been drunk for the last few weeks, I wasn't in any real danger?" 
My hand was at my neck, furiously rubbing against my horseshoe charm. 
 
Charlie chewed the inside of his lip and scratched his head. "Well, yes and no." 
 
When he didn't elaborate, I half-yelled, "Charlie!" 
 
"Oh, uh... well, turns out he did kill your mother, Jasper. Real sorry for your loss." Charlie 
shifted uncomfortably and twisted the toothpick behind his ear. 
 
"Charlie, for the love of god and all that's holy, will you please just tell us what happened?" I 
was two seconds away from trying to throw something heavier at him, and my arm was starting 
to ache a little. Rosalie was looking a little exasperated as well, but I could tell that she was 
trying to be polite and patient. 
 
"Okay, okay. So... Sam was in San Francisco for a lot longer than I thought. Jake embellished a 
bit, though. Sam wasn't in love with you at all. In fact, Sam is as queer as a three dollar bill." 
Jasper snickered from the other side of the room. 

 
"But whatever, the guy really is fucked in the head, if you'll excuse the language. Leave it to Jake 
to hire a moron for a hit. He had every intention of killing you, Bella. Apparently, he followed 
you out somewhere and saw this one," he jerked his thumb toward Jasper. He paused and spoke 
in Jasper's direction. "I can only assume it was you - he described you as 'that hot hunk of 
stripper ass with the grab-able hair.' You a stripper?" Charlie's eyebrows raised practically to the 
top of his forehead. 
 
Jasper's face flushed hotly. "Uh, I was." 
 
Charlie harrumphed and continued. "Anyway, he got your address and went to your apartment, 
thinking he was going to, well, I don't rightly know. But your mother was there, and, well, we 
know how that ended up. I guess it was accidental... or not planned, at least. But he did slip the 
photo of Jasper's mother under your door, Bella. You were right on about that. I guess he 
remembered that he was supposed to be messing with you." 
 
Jasper took in a ragged breath and let out a half sob. "So, this was really more about me?" 
 
"It was more about Sam being out his goddamned mind, son," Charlie said. "And being a shitty 
hitman. Like I said, sorry about your mother, but it's not on you." Jasper nodded and pressed the 
heels of his hands into his eyes. 
 
"What about Emmett?" I asked. "Did he have anything to do with that?" Emmett leaned forward, 
his elbows on his knees while Rosalie rubbed his back. 
 
Charlie shook his head. "I don't think so. I mean, Sam was trashed - I don't think he was capable 
of lying to me in the state that guy was in. He was so freaked out about killing a little old lady 
that he's been glued to that bar stool ever since. Completely forgot he was even supposed to kill 
you, Bella. I seriously doubt he was sober enough to screw with the whatchamacallit in the 
kitchen." 
 
I looked at him in shock, and then over at Edward, who was smirking at me. I knew he was 
thinking that I'd worried myself half to death for no reason, and that seemed to be true. Still, I 
was agitated and felt like hitting him in the kneecaps. My next thought was that I might want to 
invest in meditation classes or something - training with Garrett had let loose some aggression 
issues. 
 
"Where is he now? Sam, I mean?" When and if the guy sobered up, I didn't want him to suddenly 
remember he was supposed to off me. 
 
Charlie shoved the toothpick back in his mouth and mumbled, "I took care of it." 
 
"What do you mean, you took care of it?" I asked indignantly. 
 
Edward put a soothing hand on my arm and said, "Uh, let it go, Bella." 
 

"No! Has he been arrested? Is he still sitting drunk in a bar? I want to know!" I yelled. There was 
no room for ambiguity around this issue; I needed the closure - for me, for Edward, for all of us. 
 
"Bella." Charlie's voice was sharp and loud. His blank expression surprised me and kind of 
freaked me out. I didn't know him well enough to decipher what it meant, but he looked 
dangerous. "You never have to worry about him again. I've taken care of it, and that's that. I 
suggest you take Edward's advice." 
 
I swallowed audibly and nodded weakly. "Okay. Thanks, Charlie." 
 
"So... it looks like maybe someone at work really did sabotage you, babe," Rosalie said to 
Emmett. 
 
His strangled laugh was breathless. "I guess so." 
 
"Wait," I said, "so if Jake lied about Sam, well... how does he fit into all of this?" 
Charlie's toothpick twisted in his mouth as he growled. "Motherfucker," he muttered under his 
breath. "Yeah, I thought we had come to an understanding of sorts, didn't think he'd dare lie to 
me after... but he did. I'm not really sure if he thought he could get away from me and start a new 
life, or if he thought maybe he could finish the job that Sam was supposed to do. That boy is 
dumber than a box of rocks, Bella. Why the hell were you going out with him?" 
 
Edges of the hysteria from the last time we were all laughing about Jake tittered around the 
living room, but I was tired and getting really angry. I just wanted Charlie to quit trying to act 
like my father, finish the story, and then get out. 
 
"It doesn't matter," I said coldly. "What happened?" 
 
Charlie shrugged. "Hmmm. Well... only an idiot would take me to actual bars where Sam might 
actually be. He had to know that Sam's story would disagree with his. I don't know, maybe he 
was counting on me thinking Sam was a liar. Even after finding him, though, Jake just acted like 
nothing was wrong. What a bonehead." He looked at me again and sighed. "The rest of the story 
isn't very exciting. Since Sam sure as shit wasn't going anywhere, I knocked Jake out and 
deposited him at the nearest precinct. That's that." 
 
"So... this is over?" I asked, my voice shaking. I kept vacillating between wanting to pound the 
crap out of someone and crying like a little girl - I chalked it up to the trauma of being shot and 
tried not overanalyze it. 
 
"Yeah. That's pretty much all she wrote, kid." Charlie looked at Alice and shook his head. 
"Unless there's something more going on with that one." He stabbed his finger in the air toward 
her. Alice didn't say a word; she just rubbed her stomach absently and looked at the ground. 
"Well... then, I guess I'll help get you packed up. I can call the moving company in the morning, 
and you'll be back in Philly in a few days." 
 
Edward took his glasses off and stood, walking to the kitchen with the oddest expression on his 

flushed face. The very idea of leaving him gutted me, left me breathless. Even with him being 
just across the apartment, I physically ached for him... and I didn't think it was the painkillers 
talking. There was no way I could be without him. I didn't even care if I had to work at the stupid 
dispatch office forever, although I was certain after not showing up to work for a few days, I was 
probably fired. 
 
"I'm staying here," I said quietly. 
 
"Bella, don't be stupid," Charlie said. "Your life is in Philadelphia. I'm sure you can get your old 
job ba-" 
 
Oh, screw this!  I was tired and my arm hurt, and the relief of not being hunted anymore was too 
much to bear. "Listen to what I'm saying," I gritted out between clenched teeth. "I'm not moving 
back home. I'm staying here." 
 
"Is this because of him?" Charlie asked incredulously, indicating toward the kitchen. Edward had 
come back out of the kitchen, watching me with his green eyes full of hope and love. 
"Charlie, kindly shut the hell up. Not that it's any of your business, but I'm wildly in love with 
Edward. Through all of this - being on the run, having to allow you back into my life, getting 
shot - he's been my silver lining." 
 
Charlie looked like I'd punched him in the gut for a moment, and then he stiffened, working the 
toothpick furiously. He nodded. "Yeah. Yeah. Too late to start being your dad now. Hmph." He 
shuffled his feet and started for the door. "Glad you're safe, Bella. See you around." The door 
shut behind him with a quiet click. 
 
With what little strength I had left, I flew into Edward's arms and he kissed me frantically. "Don't 
leave me, Bella," he whispered against my mouth. 
 
"I love you, I love you," I murmured when we broke the kiss. 
 
Alice sighed behind us, and I turned. Rosalie was staring at me, and Jasper and Emmett were 
staring at the floor with faint smiles. I didn't quite mean for any of them to witness that, but I was 
too tired and happy to care... I did feel slightly guilty about Charlie, though, although I couldn't 
for the life of me figure out why. 
 
"You can't leave things like that with Charlie," Rosalie said, like she was reading my mind. 
"You'd probably be dead without him. I know there's some backstory I don't know, and family 
stuff is always complicated," she gave me a wry smile, "but Charlie seems like an okay guy." 
 
I nodded slowly. She was right... kind of. I heard the elevator shut down the hall. If I took the 
stairs, I might be able to catch him outside the building. 
 
 
 
 

 

20. 

 

 
Charlie's hands were shoved in his pockets, walking down the street away from my building 
when I made it outside. I was moving slowly; the day had really started to catch up with me and 
my head was more than a little hazy. 
"Charlie!" I called. 
 
He turned and, seeing me, walked back quickly, his eyes still downcast and the toothpick still 
moving like crazy. 
 
"Do you want to go get coffee?" I asked. The sidewalk didn't seem like the proper place to have 
this conversation. He nodded and followed me to the diner down the street. 
 
The diner was nearly empty; we sat in a booth in the back, and I slumped against the red vinyl as 
we both ordered coffee. Charlie ordered a slice of apple pie. The silence was deafening between 
us, and finally I couldn't take it anymore. 
 
"What did you think was going to happen, Charlie?" I asked gently. "I mean, I appreciate 
everything you've done for me... but... " 
 
"Do you know how I met your mother?" he asked quietly. 
 
I shook my head. She had never discussed it with me, preferring instead to pretend Charlie had 
never existed. And with my vague memories of him, I never wanted to know anything about 
him. Charlie was poison, a topic we stayed away from. I dug a pain pill out of my pocket and 
took it with a sip of coffee. 
 
"Your mother was in college at the time. She and her friends thought it would be fun to take a 
walk on the wild side, walked into this shitty bar that I spent time at. Some guys from the 
neighborhood got rough with her, and I stepped in. Renee was the most beautiful thing I'd ever 
seen, and it shocked the shit out of me when she asked for my number. I was even more 
surprised when she actually called me. Classy broad like that calling a low life like me? Well, a 
couple of months later she told me she was pregnant. I was a kid, freaked out. I loved the hell out 
of that woman, but I couldn't let her get tied up in my world." 
 
"I appreciate the story, Charlie," I said, choosing my words carefully, "but one of my very 
earliest and only memories of you is slapping my mother." 
 
Charlie nodded, inspecting the handle of his coffee mug with heavy eyes. "I won't defend myself 
here, Bella. It happened, and you can't know how sorry I am. I left her alone after that. Her and 
you. I was bad for the both of you. I did what I thought was right. And look at you - you turned 
out just fine... probably better than you would have if I'd been involved." 

 
I couldn't disagree with him. I'd often thought about it - when other people would brag about 
their dad or when father's day came and went, I was never jealous of people who had a father in 
their life. Renee had been a great parent, and I never wanted for anything. I never needed a 
father. 
 
"I wish you were coming back to Philly, though, Bella, I really do. I thought maybe you could 
find it in you to stay in touch. I can't expect you to forget that I wasn't around, but maybe you 
could accept my apology and let me be in your life." 
 
And there it was. I didn't know how to feel or what to think. "I'm grateful to you for all of this, 
but I just... I don't know. Can I think about it?" 
 
The edges of his lips curled up, and he stuck his toothpick back in his mouth. "Yeah, of course, 
kid." He threw some cash down on the table and stood, clearing his throat. "I gotta go." 
 
I slid out of the booth, my legs sluggish. We stood awkwardly, staring at each other, until Charlie 
cleared his throat again and said, "Take care of yourself, Bella." He quickly kissed my cheek, 
leaving me with the smell of smoke and aftershave as he walked away. 
 
Edward was waiting for me on the front steps of the building. I sat down beside him heavily and 
leaned my head on his shoulder. 
 
"Hey, sweets," he said quietly. "How'd it go with Charlie?" 
 
"I don't know," I replied, breathing in his spicy scent. "He wants to be... I don't know, I don't 
think he's asking to be my dad or anything. I think he just wants to be friends. I guess that's not 
quite it either. I don't know what he wants." 
 
"Maybe you don't have to qualify it," Edward murmured. "I know it must be hard for you, but he 
did kill someone for you today." 
 
I looked up at him, confused. "What are you talking about?" 
 
"Bella, you have to know that when Charlie said he 'took care' of Sam, he meant that Sam was 
dead, right?" Edward sounded amused, which seemed odd. Everything about today had been 
odd, though... so my boyfriend talking calmly to me about my father murdering someone for my 
benefit wasn't that crazy, I supposed. "The least you could do is send him a Christmas card." 
 
"Why are you being so casual about Sam?" I asked. It was as if he had told me it was raining 
instead of discussing the fact that Charlie had likely killed someone... for me. 
 
Edward scrunched his nose and pushed his glasses up with his index finger. "I've been scared 
shitless since the minute Charlie told you that Sam wasn't in Philadelphia anymore, Bella. I kept 
calm because I needed to help you be calm, but my stomach has been a mess. I haven't been 
sleeping well, and I haven't written very much because I was so afraid that Sam was going to 

hurt you. Knowing that you were sure he killed Mrs. Whitlock and might be targeting everyone, 
including my parents..." He rubbed a hand over his hair and sighed. "And then I thought you 
might take off and leave me, something stupid like that." 
 
I slid my hand over his heart and pressed a kiss to his jaw line. "I was starting to wonder if you 
were insane. You didn't seem scared at all, and it didn't make sense." 
 
"Jesus, sweets," he said, tangling his hand in my hair. "It was all I could do not to scoop you up 
and run with you. I love you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for you. So I knew exactly what 
Charlie had done... and if came down to it, I'd have killed him too, just to ensure that he couldn't 
ever hurt you. Charlie loves you, Bella. I know you don't have the normal father-daughter 
relationship, but he came through for you." 
 
I nodded. I would deal with this another time. Right now I just wanted to let Edward put me to 
bed so I could feel his skin against mine, knowing that I didn't have to agonize over leaving him 
or worry about him getting hurt because of me. The situation with Charlie would keep, although 
I knew I'd find some way to stay in touch with him... and not just out of a sense of gratitude or 
guilt. 
 
Rosalie and Emmett were at work in the kitchen when Edward and I walked into my apartment. 
Emmett called, "I hope you don't mind that we raided your refrigerator, Edward. I didn't think I 
could make anything out of tequila and ice cream." 
 
Jasper was passed out on the couch, lightly snoring. Alice was still in the armchair, rubbing her 
stomach. She smiled at me nervously when I sat down on the couch near Jasper's feet. 
"I'm glad you're staying, Bella," she said. "I'm so sorry about Tyler." 
 
"It's okay," I told her. "We all have secrets we keep." I smiled, thinking about when Edward had 
told me the same thing. 
 
She heaved a sigh. "I really thought all of it was behind me. He raped me. He and his friends." 
Even though she had hinted at it when Tyler was in the apartment, I really thought it had to be 
something else. 
 
"Oh, Alice, I'm so sorry," I said, moving to sit on the arm of the chair and grabbing her hand 
tightly. 
 
Rosalie had come out of the kitchen and sat on the opposite arm, her arm around Alice. 
 
"We were dating at the time," Alice's eyes were glassy, her face pink. "And he was nice. His 
family is well-respected in town. We had been going out a few months when he invited me on a 
picnic, and I didn't think anything of it. I mean, it's not like he twirled his mustache and arched 
his eyebrow at me when he asked if I'd go. I trusted him. I won't go into the details, because I'd 
just as soon forget... but I was too embarrassed to tell anyone afterwards, and I didn't think 
anyone would believe me anyway. I mean, small town, good family, and we were dating. Who 
does that to their girlfriend?" 

 
I squeezed her hand. Jasper had woken up, and he and Edward were listening with pained 
expressions. 
 
"When I found out I was pregnant, I just... I freaked out. I thought about having an abortion, but I 
just couldn't do it. I mean, I'm not anti-choice or anything, I just couldn't make that decision for 
myself. I thought maybe I could put the baby up for adoption. I don't know... the longer I was 
pregnant, the more I wanted it. I had to get away from Claflin, though. Tyler and his friends... 
they... and I just... and... " Alice hiccupped and her voice trailed off. 
 
"How did he find out?" Rosalie asked quietly. 
 
"My sister. I had already decided to get the hell away from Kansas, but stupid Cynthia told him 
and he got it in his head that it was his baby. Even if it was, there's no way in hell I'd let a rapist 
raise it." Her voice got stronger and louder. "This baby... it might not have happened the way I 
wanted it to... the rape was horrible and wrong, and I've been in serious counseling since I got 
here. I'm not okay, but this baby is going to be. And I'm going to be." 
 
"Did you know he was looking for you?" Edward asked. 
 
She shook her head. "Not a clue. I mean, Cynthia said that he was dating some girl in town, and I 
just thought he'd leave me alone. I haven't heard from him at all during the entire time I've been 
here." 
 
"Alice," I started, "how did he know to come to my apartment? That doesn't make sense to me. I 
mean, how did he even know we ordered a pizza?" 
 
Alice shook her head again. "Dumb luck, if you can believe it," she said with a sarcastic laugh. "I 
don't know how he got my address, but he told the police that when he showed up here he saw 
me going into your apartment. And then he just waited around and asked delivery people where 
they were going until he got lucky." 
 
"Are you kidding me?" I shrieked. "If I hadn't ordered a freaking pizza, none of this would have 
happened? Seriously, that is the worst thing I've ever heard." 
 
Emmett laughed and said, "For someone who is so superstitious, I'm beginning to think you have 
the worst luck in the world. You might as well not even bother with the salt and the umbrellas." 
 
My hand was at my horseshoe charm again. "Or maybe my luck would be worse if I tried that," I 
snarked. 
 
"Baby, you keep wearing that necklace," Edward said with a laugh. "I don't want to take my 
chances." 
 
After dinner, Emmett and Rosalie went home to their own place, and Alice and Jasper left, 
leaving Edward and I alone... finally. I was so relieved to have him to myself; the day seemed to 

have lasted a week. The food had helped a bit; I didn't feel quite as lethargic and weird. I took 
another painkiller to dull the ache in my arm, and Edward helped me undress, his hands soft and 
sure. He handed me my mother's old, chenille robe and coaxed me under the covers of the bed. 
He slipped in next to me, still in his jeans and t-shirt; we curled up together on the bed, our legs 
twined, his hand stroking my hair as I snuggled closer to him. 
 
"What a shitty day," I sighed. That was a major understatement. 
 
Edward grinned and kissed my forehead. "I don't know. I mean, I could have done without you 
being shot, but you're no longer in danger. No one is in danger. You can start your life over 
again, Bella. With me." His last words were quiet, but the truth of them rang in the quiet of my 
bedroom. 
 
He was mine. And I could be his. We were both safe. There was nothing else, just us. I flopped 
on to my back and stared at the ceiling, a huge smile stretching my face so hard I thought my 
cheeks might split. I laughed softly. This was the beginning of our forever. Edward was 
everything to me, and we could be together. It barely seemed real. 
 
"What's so funny?" he teased. "Thinking about my day job again?" 
 
I leaned into him and kissed his top lip before sucking it into my mouth, the warmth of him 
making me hum contentedly. I could stay here and not have to worry about anything. He gently 
cupped the back of my head and drew me closer, deepening the kiss. He was happy, too - I could 
feel the corners of his mouth turn up; both of us were absolutely gleeful. 
 
"Baby, your arm," he murmured when I broke the kiss to drag my lips under his jaw. 
 
"What arm?" I said. I didn't feel a thing except the need to be with Edward. He untied the knot in 
my robe and grasped my hip, his fingers biting into the flesh of my ass. I never wanted him to 
stop touching me. My hands slid under his t-shirt, the tips of my fingers trailing from his navel to 
the top of his jeans. Edward groaned and ran his palm up my side to my breast, kneading it 
gently before dipping his head to take my nipple in his mouth. His tongue felt amazing, his teeth 
biting down gently making my heart sputter and a flush race across my skin. 
 
"I love you," I whispered as I bunched his shirt up and slipped it off of him. 
 
"I love you more." Edward carefully pushed my arms out of my robe, running his short nails 
along the underside of my forearm and up my bicep before resting his hand over my heart. 
 
I climbed to my knees, tugging him up with me; I unfastened the top button of his pants and 
grinned. "Do you love me enough to give me a private show?" 
 
"A private show?" He laughed and ran his fingertip down my body and slid it into my wetness. I 
arched my back as he slid two fingers inside of me slowly. His other hand was at the small of my 
back, holding me in place. "Why, Ms. Swan, I've retired." He moved his face closer to mine, 
resting our foreheads together while he continued to push his fingers in and out. 

 
"Isn't there anything I can do to convince you to give an injured woman a little thrill?" I gasped 
out as he touched me. Visions of Edward's denim-clad ass gyrating passed through my head, 
sending an extra jolt to my girly bits. 
 
He reached down and unhooked the rest of his buttons, pushing his jeans off his hips. "Later, 
sweets," he said, pulling me over his lap to straddle him. I sank down onto him, sighing as his 
hardness filled me deliciously. "Right now I'm making love the woman I want to marry." 
 

 

21. 

 

 
Almost a year later... 
 
The kitchen felt warmer than the rest of the apartment, and I was glad of it. It wasn't as cold in 
San Francisco in February as it was back in Philly; I had spoken to Charlie yesterday - it was 35 
degrees and had just snowed six inches. He was miserable about it, and I didn't blame him. 
Winters in Philly were not my favorite, either. The weatherman said it was supposed to be 
around 55 here today. That was okay with me - in fact, it seemed practically tropical by 
comparison. As I chopped carrots awkwardly, I wondered what was keeping Edward. He had 
recruited me to finish chopping his vegetables, and I knew he wouldn't be happy with my subpar 
knife skills. He, Rosalie, and Emmett had all tried to coach me, but I was still hopeless in the 
kitchen. 
 
If I was being honest, I really didn't try to improve very much - Edward kept me fed, and Emmett 
would occasionally take pity on me and deliver dessert. The pastry shop that Emmett and Rosalie 
opened was doing incredibly well. It had been a great idea. Rosalie still offered event planning 
services through the shop, and each of her events featured Emmett's desserts. Even though 
Edward and I had gotten married on a whim down at City Hall last month, they catered our 
makeshift reception the weekend after. Emmett made us a fantastic wedding cake that was one 
layer of carrot cake with cream cheese frosting, another layer of chocolate cherry almond pound 
cake with chocolate ganache, and a third layer of his insanely good chocolate cake with 
raspberry jam filling. Considering there were only about twenty-five people at the reception, I 
thought it was a bit of overkill... but the cake was delicious. 
 
Introducing Charlie to Liz and Ed had been kind of funny. I wanted to warn Charlie to be on his 
best behavior, but was afraid it would hurt his feelings – things were still tenuous and kind of 
awkward between us. Liz and Ed had gotten a slightly toned down version of the story about 
how things concluded with the Sam situation, and I was a little nervous that Charlie would have 
too much to drink and say too much. Liz had really become a second mother to me; I didn't want 
to do anything to make her think less of me, although Edward assured me that I probably could 
have killed a bag of kittens in front of her and she would find a way to forgive me. I needn't have 
worried - Charlie was actually charming, despite the ever-constant presence of his toothpick. He 

even wore a suit. Liz had loved him, and Ed invited Charlie to play golf the next day. 
 
Garrett came to the wedding, too. I continued to work with him weekly when I decided to stay in 
San Francisco. He had been pretty amused when I told him my whole sordid story, and it took 
him months to stop calling me Maureen. Alice started joining us for sessions a few months after 
she had the baby - her therapist told her it might help her feel more secure and give her a sense of 
control. Garrett said he'd never met anyone so vicious, but he meant it as a compliment. After 
she broke a few of Garrett's fingers during an attack simulation, he grinned and suggested she 
start training with a friend of his in Muay Thai fighting. I almost hoped that Tyler would come 
after her when he got out of prison so she could have the pleasure of beating the shit out of him. 
 
Not that Tyler was going to be getting out of prison anytime soon. He was convicted of 
attempted murder, aggravated assault, and a whole slew of other things, and received a seven 
year sentence. Going back to court was something I could have lived without, but having 
Edward's support was wonderful. Having Alice and everyone else by my side was also really 
nice. Jake had been extradited back to Pennsylvania and had a few years tacked on to his 
sentence. Charlie had hinted to me once that he was making sure prison was not a pleasant 
experience for Jake; I think Charlie was really mad about being lied to, and he had a tendency to 
hold a grudge. 
 
My cell phone chirped on the counter; Alice's name popped up on the screen. Making sure I 
didn't lop off a finger in the process, I picked up the phone. 
 
"Hey Alice! How's Carlisle?" She had picked such a strange name for the baby, and I was sure 
he was going to get beaten up daily when he got old enough to go to school. No doubt Alice 
would have him in some kind of martial arts classes when he was old enough for that type of 
thing. It's a good thing he was so cute - he looked just like Alice. 
 
"Hi, Bella! He's good... taking a nap, thank god. What are you doing?" 
 
I leaned back against the counter and took a sip of wine. "Just chopping some stuff for dinner. 
Edward pressed me into service." 
 
"So, guess what?" I could practically see her bouncing up and down in the apartment that she and 
Jasper shared. Theirs was a good partnership - Alice worked primarily during the day while 
Jasper watched Carlisle, and Jasper was back to playing the piano, most of which was at night. 
Jasper loved the baby and made a great surrogate dad. "Jasper's on a date!" 
 
I gasped. Jasper hadn't gone out with anyone since I'd known him, sarcastically citing the lack of 
gay men in San Francisco. "Oh my god, really? How'd that happen?" 
 
"He's out with Garrett!" Alice shrieked into the phone. 
 
"What? Garrett is gay?" I asked. That was news to me. I tried to imagine the two of them 
together and had to admit they'd make a cute couple. Both were blonde and hot, and they were 
also two of the nicest men I'd ever met. Garrett was about twenty years older than Jasper, but that 

shouldn't really matter - it obviously didn't matter to Jasper. 
 
"Yeah, I didn't know either. But I introduced them at the reception, and I guess they've been 
meeting for coffee. I had no idea any of this was going on until Garrett showed up at my door in 
a suit tonight. I think they're going to Chez Panisse." 
 
"Wow!" I said. "Who knew? Garrett and Jasper." 
 
"Yeah, wow," Alice repeated. "Shit, I think Carlisle is waking up. Gotta run. Dinner tomorrow?" 
 
Music started playing, and I wondered again what Edward was up to. "Definitely. I'll see you 
then." 
 
I hung up the phone and called, "Edward, did you know that Jasper is dating Garrett?" He didn't 
answer, so I walked out of the kitchen and looked around for him. The music got louder. LL 
Cool J? It was coming toward the bedroom. I figured out that it was "Doin' It Well" when I 
rounded the corner into the room, about to ask Edward what he was doing, but the question died 
on my lips. Edward was shirtless, clad only a pair of holey jeans, gyrating to the song. He looked 
insanely hot, and I started to drool a little as he closed his eyes, a smirk on his face, and ran his 
hands down the planes of his chest, past his navel, and popped the top button his jeans. My eyes 
were glued to his crotch, where an erection was clearly visible through his pants. 
 
Edward had taken to surprising me with impromptu stripping routines every once in a while. If I 
had ever had reservations about being married to a former stripper, they vanished the second he 
started shaking his ass just for me. I thought Edward was beautiful anyway, but Edward's grace 
was breathtaking... and panty-dropping. Even after a year, just thinking about him made me want 
to find him and ravage him. 
 
He opened his eyes and undulated his torso to the music; my nipples puckered, tightening almost 
painfully. I ached to start removing my clothing, but Edward loved doing that himself - he'd be 
disappointed if I deprived him, and I certainly didn't want to miss out on any of his plans. He 
ripped open another two buttons of his fly and dipped his hand inside, gripping his dick and 
rubbing his thumb over the top of his swollen head. God, he was going commando. Fucking sexy 
as hell. I throbbed for him. 
 
I stood in the doorway, eyefucking him as he moved around the room. His pants were fully 
unbuttoned and halfway down his hips by the time he made his way to me, and I shivered when 
slid his body against mine, moving behind me. He snaked one arm around my waist and pulled 
me tightly to him, his cock hard against my lower back. His other hand slipped under the 
waistband of my workout pants and into my underwear, stroking me lightly as I squirmed against 
him. 
 
His hips swayed behind me, and he pulled me with him. I had terrible rhythm and always felt 
stupid dancing, but Edward had a way of making me forget that. In his arms I felt powerful and 
sensual. He shifted his hand out of my pants and dropped his ass to the ground, sliding his body 
up mine, his hands all over me and pushing my sweater up over my head. I turned in his arms 

and unhooked my bra as he dipped me backwards and attached his lips to the valley between my 
breasts, and then pulled the bra off of me with his teeth. Edward snapped my body up to his, our 
lips a centimeter apart and his pretty green eyes burning into mine. 
 
"Wife," he said, his voice low and rough with need. I pushed his jeans further down his hips and 
pushed them to the ground with my feet, his skin hot against mine in the cool air of the room. I 
moaned and closed the distance between our mouths, nipping at his bottom lip. 
 
"I love you," he sighed, sliding the flat of his palms up the bare skin of my back to my shoulders. 
 
I reached down to cup his balls and he groaned, throwing his head back. As I wrapped my hands 
around his shaft, I grazed my teeth against his Adam's apple and murmured, "I love you, 
husband." 
 
Edward's smile was breathtaking. Neither one of us was used to the idea of being married yet, 
and he loved hearing me call him 'husband.' He pushed me onto the bed with a grin and stripped 
my pants off, kissing one ankle and then the other. He brushed his body up mine until he laid 
gently over me; I locked my ankles behind his back and rolled him so he was on his back and I 
was straddling his stomach. My lips immediately went to his nipple, and I moved off his body so 
I could stroke him. He was so hard he was throbbing in my hand. I lowered my lips onto him, 
nipping at the ridge around the head and licking into the slit. He grunted and wove his hands into 
my hair as I licked up his length and took him into my mouth, his thighs tense under me. He set 
the pace he wanted as he guided my head, thrusting his hips softly. Before he could come, he 
rolled out from underneath me and kissed me deeply, sliding his fingers back into my wetness 
and circling my clit with his thumb. 
 
"Oh, sweets, you're so damn hot," he panted against my mouth. "Want you. Why do I always 
want you so much?" 
 
I whimpered, and he pushed his fingers into the spot he knew would make me scream when I 
came and I did, chanting his name over and over as I arched against him. He was smug, the 
corners of his lips turning up as I pushed him aggressively against the headboard, crawled over 
him, and sank onto his cock, both of us groaning in relief at being joined. I never wanted to be 
away from him, and my heart was so... full knowing that it would never be necessary. We thrust 
against each other, whispering our love back and forth. I came with his hand stroking me 
between us, and he came immediately after with a groan, pressing his forehead to mine. 
 
We snuggled in bed until Edward murmured, "I started writing a new novel yesterday." 
 
I pressed my lips to his throat. I had gotten a job at a bank in the neighborhood similar to the one 
I had in Philadelphia. I was making good money, enough so that Edward could write full time 
without worrying about his phone sex income. Edward liked to say that he was a kept man, but 
he brought in some money through writing and having him around to cook for me made our 
arrangement an equal partnership as far as I was concerned. The apartment we had moved into 
after I got shot was nice enough, and we were happy. 
 

"Oh yeah?" I asked. "What's it about?" 
 
He smiled gently and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "It's about us." 
 
"About us?" I repeated. "What about us?" 
 
"Why don't I just let you read the first chapter?" he asked. 
 
I nodded, and he slid out of bed, the taut muscles of his ass flexing as he padded out the bedroom 
door. He walked back in with his laptop under his arm, and I admired his lean abs and trim hips, 
my eyes lingering on his pink nipples. I licked my lips and he chuckled. 
 
"You're insatiable, sweets." He climbed back into bed and settled next to me, arranging the 
laptop in front of him. 
 
"You bet your ass," I teased as I ran my hand along his inner thigh under the blankets. 
 
He rolled his eyes and moved the laptop to my legs. I licked his earlobe and grinned at him 
before settling down to read the screen. As my eyes flickered over the words, Edward's mouth 
was on my neck. I was so happy, so content. I tried to pay attention to the first chapter of 
Edward's book: 
 
The day had been ridiculously long; moving cross-country was a grueling experience, one I did 
not care to repeat. Ever. After the moving van pulled away, I had heaved a heavy sigh and spent 
the next six hours cleaning the apartment and unpacking the kitchen. The rest of the apartment 
could wait. My last official act had been to set up my bed – the only furniture so far in my 
bedroom – and put fresh sheets on it. I took a quick shower to wash off the stink of the move and 
crawled into bed, sighing at the feeling of cool, crisp sheets against my skin. 
 
The pull of sleep dragged me into semi-consciousness. I assumed I was in the middle of a weird 
dream when it seemed like my bed vibrated beneath me; the sound of glass breaking snapped me 
wide awake, though. The bed still trembled, but I didn't have time to think too much about it – 
more glass shattered somewhere in my apartment. 
 
I giggled and closed the laptop, setting it on the nightstand. I'd already heard this story... I could 
read it later. I turned toward Edward and caught his lips with mine. 

 

~*~ 

The End

 

~*~