Author's Note: WARNING! I cannot overstate just how strong the CONTENT WARNING is for this chapter. There is somewhat graphic description (in flashback) of a violent sexual assault involving psychological torment and digital penetration.

Chapter 8

Being away from the house for the next couple of hours made Edward extremely anxious, even knowing that Carlisle and Jacob were both there and on high alert. Neither of them would allow anything to happen to Bella and he knew that. He still couldn't get back quickly enough, even if hunting was a necessity.

And it was a necessity, although not because he had any concern for his own comfort. He needed his strength for when he found Victoria and her ally.

With that exhilarating thought in mind, he made very short work of the closest herd of deer he could find, savagely glutting himself on more of the animals than he would normally take from one area at a time.

The chance to exercise his predatory senses should have helped, should have taken the edge off. It didn't. It only whetted his monster's appetite for violence all the more.

But he had made a promise to Bella that he was coming back to her as soon as he could, a promise he intended to keep. The hope that at least some small part of her wanted his presence was more addictive than even the thought of shredding her would-be rapist into ribbons. So vengeance was going to have to wait.

He didn't wait for Alice, either, who had ventured further out. The urge to get back to his mate was all-consuming.

But when he approached the house again, the first thing he noticed was Bella's heartrate. It was slow, calm. Too slow. Slower than normal when she slept.

There were also loud snores, but those weren't hers. Her mangy guard dog had fallen asleep on the job, apparently, and it set Edward's teeth on edge. Perhaps a nice bucket of ice water would help revive him...

But Carlisle met him at the front door, putting an unknowing halt to that malicious urge. "You look better, son," he remarked, smiling. At seeing Edward's immediate worried glance up the stairs, he was quick to add, "She's fine. She's sleeping."

Edward recognized that exact heart rhythm. He had heard it before and still didn't like it.

"Yes, but not naturally. What did you give her?"

"The same as I prescribed when she left the hospital last time, after James. In fact, she asked me for them by name. I was a bit surprised to learn she had actually taken them the first time."

Edward frowned. "Yes, all of them. But it's worth mentioning that she hid them from me, and from Charlie Swan as well. I only knew because she slept so deeply the first night that I became concerned and went looking."

Carlisle nodded slowly. "Noted. I gave her a small bottle to keep. Would you prefer I take it back and dispense them myself while she's here?"

He hesitated, mulling it over, pushing down his initial impulse to say yes, immediately.

At the time that Bella hid her use of the sleeping pills from him, her trust in him had not exactly been riding at an all-time high, to say the least. Renee had just broken Charlie's heart by leaving him for a second time, and it had left an already injured and traumatized Bella reeling, convinced that Edward would eventually do the same to her. Not an unfounded concern, as it turned out, although breaking her heart had certainly never been his intention in leaving. The effect was the same, though.

So he really had no concrete reason to believe she would misuse them.

And yet...

He still had more questions than answers about the extent of what had been done to her. She had been with her abductor for many, many hours. It could be far worse than they all knew. So the idea of her access to the pills when she was dealing with unknown emotional trauma made him even more uneasy than it had the first time.

He had monitored her use of them closely that time, after James, though he hadn't let on that he knew they existed until the night she ran out of them. That was a pretty unforgettable night in general, considering it was also the night Charlie Swan found him in her bed, clutching her in his lap and desperately trying to wake her up from the screaming nightmare that still haunted him — the one where she was screaming and begging him to come to her, to save her.

That night held other memories, too, though. Better ones. It was the night he had verbally claimed his Bella as his mate — and damn near given in to the fiery inferno of possessive lust that made him want to claim her physically, too, while he was at it. It certainly wasn't as though Bella would have protested.

The thought made him wince. He could barely think of such things, at the moment. That night seemed so long ago, and very far away from their current reality.

Forcing his mind back to the present, his answer to Carlisle's offer to take back the pills came down to one thing: despite his uneasiness, he didn't want to rob Bella of the small amount of control Carlisle had offered her. Plus, if he intended to regain her trust, it wasn't really the best time to start coming off like a controlling bastard. So he quelled what he assumed to be just an overprotective instinct.

"Let her keep them. I see no reason to deny her. She didn't abuse them, by any means, and it seemed to help prevent nightmares."

Nightmares. Not something he was looking forward to. Because this time, he feared she wouldn't be screaming for him. She'd be screaming because of him — or at least his face, his body.

Yes. He was definitely letting Bella keep the sleeping pills. Putting that horror off until he could regain some of her trust, hopefully allowing him to be there for her when it started, was fine with him.

"Very well, son," Carlisle answered. "I trust your judgment. By the way, Alice called just before you got here. She's on her way back, and she threatened unpleasant consequences if you do anything aside from take a shower immediately. She said she'll be here to dress you by the time you get out?"

He allowed a small smile, both at that statement and the amused lift of Carlisle's eyebrow, the question in his voice. It was good to be home. He had missed his family more than he realized. But if anyone could make good on the threat of unpleasantness, it would be Alice. Her size was frighteningly deceptive.

"I agreed to a deal, of sorts. She got me in the door to see Bella earlier. In exchange, I agreed to hunt afterward and then shower. And to let her pick my clothes. At least, I hope that's all I agreed to."

Carlisle put his hand on Edward's shoulder. His eyes twinkled. "Never break a deal with Alice. It's good to have you home, son. We'll talk more later."

Impulsively, Edward grabbed Carlisle and hugged him. "Thank you. Thank you for taking care of Bella for me. I didn't realize until today how much you all did to protect her."

Carlisle wrapped him in a bear hug that could have rivaled Emmett's strength. "We're a family, Edward, and you and Bella are part of this family. Both of you, as she is still your mate. We protect our own."

If he'd had to look his father in the eye, he might not have been able to say it. As it was, it was barely audible, muttered into Carlisle's shoulder. "I'm not sure she still wants that...wants me. I'm not sure she can ever forgive me, for leaving her or even for what he did to her. How can she look at me and not blame me for both?"

Carlisle released him and pulled back, but gripped his shoulder as he looked him in the eye. "I think you may be wrong about that. You didn't see that girl watching for you every second after you and Alice left tonight. I did."

He'd started down this road. He wasn't going back now, even if it meant putting voice to his deepest fear. "Because she wanted me to come back? Or because she was terrified I would?" His voice was still so quiet, even Carlisle might not have heard it if he wasn't standing right there.

Carlisle smiled. "I stopped going to the door to check on her after the first hour, because she looked so disappointed every time she saw me."

The older vampire lowered his voice. "I can only imagine that she's very confused, and yes, it will take her time to adjust to seeing your face again. Reestablishing any physical relationship will require a great deal of care, as I know you've already considered. And then there is the issue of Jacob Black. But despite all of that, she still feels your mate bond, Edward, just as strongly as she did before. I'd stake my reputation on..."

"Carlisle." Edward interrupted the older vampire quietly, his gaze magnetically drawn over his father's shoulder and up the stairs. A jolt of near-electric intensity had just shot through him.

He'd been so intent on their discussion, he hadn't noticed the change in Bella's heartrate. He certainly hadn't noticed the fact that she was standing on the stairs, only a few steps from the top, holding onto the handrail for dear life and staring down at them both, with huge eyes and a completely ashen face.

He had no idea how long she might have been there. Perhaps he shouldn't be so judgmental of Jacob for falling asleep on the job. He wasn't much better. She could have been out the back door and into the forest if she had chosen, alone and unprotected, and he wouldn't have known it.

I believe this proves my point, Carlisle spoke to him with his thoughts when he, too, turned to look. Remarkable. She must have sensed your presence, Edward, even in a drug-induced sleep. I've never seen the like, certainly not in a human.

Edward would have loved the chance to ponder that, the depth of their connection — because he had sensed her presence, too. It was what made him look up the stairs in the first place.

But Bella was so frighteningly wobbly, likely an effect of the pills, that she had his undivided attention. It took a great deal of restraint not to fly up the steps in less than a second and steady her, grab her, maybe just scoop her right up into his arms and not let go.

Instead, he took a cautious step around Carlisle and toward the stairs, slow even for human speed. His entire body was tensed to spring into action and catch her if she fell, but he forced his feet to freeze into place again when she inhaled sharply and backed one step away from him as he approached. It stung to see her do that, but he stayed at the ready. If she lost her balance, he could still be there before she hit the next step down. He wouldn't let her crack her head open, even if it meant scaring her. His hands flexed at his sides.

"Bella," he said softly, amazed at how reverent his own voice sounded. Could she hear it too? Could she see the way his eyes drank her in like water to a man dying of thirst? Was it too much? It didn't matter. He had concealed his emotions earlier, but with her there unexpectedly in front of him, eyes locked on him and no mutt in sight, he could no more have hidden the swell of emotion bubbling up from his chest than he could have sprouted wings and flown.

"Please be careful, love. Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

For reasons he couldn't fathom, her eyes filled up with tears. Her mouth opened and closed a couple times, wordlessly, like she wanted to say something but just couldn't.

He took another step in her direction, quite without meaning to. It was as close as he got.

A flash of anger crossed her face.

"Leave me alone," she whispered shakily, and then her eyes flicked toward Carlisle, who had just moved forward to stand shoulder-to-shoulder beside his son. "Both of you."

Then she abruptly turned around and fled back up the few remaining stairs.

"Bella, wait!" Edward called, and was just about to give chase.

It was pure instinct, one he couldn't control — an automatic response to his mate running from him. Fortunately, Carlisle understood well and saved him from that certain mistake with a restraining hand on his shoulder. "Let her go, son," he said sternly, and it was enough to ground Edward, to make him stop and think before he reacted on instinctive impulse.

His ears still intently followed the sound of her footsteps as they pounded down the hall, followed by the sound of the bathroom door slamming.

The heavy wood door did little to hide the sounds coming from behind it. Bella was hyperventilating. And crying.

He was going to have to break that deal with Alice after all. His shower was going to have to wait.

Bella put her back up against the heavy wood door she had just slammed and tried to get control of her breathing...and her tears. She didn't want him to hear them.

Not after what she fully believed she had just overheard.

But quiet was a losing battle, as she pressed her open palms back against the door behind her, trying to ground herself. Her heart was racing at an alarming rate, and all she wanted to do was keep running. She wanted to run until there was nothing chasing her, until she came to a place where nobody knew her name, where nobody had even heard of vampires or wolves or most especially Isabella Marie Swan.

She had jolted awake from sleep only a few short minutes before, dragging herself up from the depths of a very deep slumber, feeling drawn to the downstairs of the Cullen home. She felt strangely compelled to check and see if Edward had returned yet.

It shouldn't even have mattered to her, and she knew that. He had been perfectly clear earlier, after she finally worked up the nerve to ask for him — and Alice apparently forced him to come — that his presence in her life again was only temporary, that he wouldn't be staying past the point she strictly needed him to.

"I'll stay for as long as you ask me to. It's completely up to you."

It hurt just to think about his indifferently calm, formal words and blank demeanor, from the moment he walked into the room until the moment Alice noticeably had to prompt him to invite her to stay.

It was the last thing she had expected. She hadn't forgotten the way he had been when James went after her, his fear for her and the savage protectiveness. He had kidnapped her to keep her safe, abandoned his family to take her away, laser focused on protecting her at all costs, damn the consequences. It was part of the reason, quite honestly, she had been nervous about seeing him.

So there were several possible reactions she might have expected from an Edward who had just walked in and saw her entire body bruised and shaking, who had undoubtedly been told of the things that had been done to her just a few hours prior.

And calm and indifference were not on that list.

She could barely wrap her mind around it, but the evidence was right there in front of her: he didn't even care.

So when he only intended to stay as long as she needed him, how could she tell him that she would never not need him?

She couldn't.

It was mortifying enough to know that he had seen her pained reaction to his flatly delivered, chivalrous words. But she couldn't hide it. The hole in her heart, the one he'd punched through her chest when he abruptly left her to fend for herself seven months before, felt like it actually exploded. If Jacob hadn't been there, she would have descended into a full-fledged panic attack.

And yet some part of her — the part, at least, that rationally understood it wasn't really Edward who had assaulted her earlier that day — just wanted to do whatever it took to keep him there. He'd stay as long as she asked him to? She'd just keep asking him to stay forever. Did it matter if he only stayed out of some misguided sense of chivalry or guilt over what had happened to her, so long as he was there?

That part of her needed his comfort like a wilting flower needed the rain. That part of her wanted to fling herself into his embrace and beg him to hold her tight and never let her go.

But there was also a part of her — smaller but nonetheless present — that wanted to run and hide the second she saw his face. Or saw his strong hands clenching into fists at his sides, the ones that could pulverize trees. His overwhelming strength had never frightened her before. It kind of did now.

Her brain might know it hadn't been him who violated her out in the forest, but it hadn't fully convinced her body of that fact yet. She couldn't control her own physical reactions. She had seen his face only twice now since it happened, but both times, her fight-or-flight had kicked in.

Like just a few moments ago on the stairs, when she literally ran from him and Carlisle.

But she had good reason.

She had heard what they said. Well, some of what they said, anyway. Enough to read between the lines.

It was Edward's voice she heard first, the one that had drawn her down the hallway toward the stairs, though she could hear just bits and pieces.

"I agreed to a deal of sorts..."

"...to see Bella..."

"...hope that's all I agreed to."

The words knocked the breath out of her like a physical blow, stoking her already deep insecurities about the reasons for his return.

Alice had to make a deal with him to even come and see her? He didn't want to be there. He didn't want her there. Despite his kind words in his room earlier, the way he called her "love" when he promised to come back — it meant nothing. She meant nothing to him. He was doing his chivalrous duty to her and no more, and even then probably only because his family was encouraging it.

She should have stopped listening and run back to his room at that very moment, at least long enough to wake up Jacob and beg him to take her somewhere else, anywhere else. She might have done exactly that if she wasn't a little terrified to touch him, too. She had no idea yet what caused him to turn into a giant wolf.

Jacob, at least, had apologized earlier, for abandoning her; had insinuated that he avoided her after he phased the first time, only to keep from hurting her.

She didn't know exactly what he meant, and she didn't want to find out the hard way. She had been hurt enough, for one day.

So rather than retreating to Edward's room, her feet instead drew closer to the top of the stairs, wanting to hear more of Edward's and Carlisle's conversation. Her heart was hammering in her ears so loudly it drowned out the rest of what they were saying until they came into sight, with Carlisle hugging his son fiercely. She caught the end of what Carlisle was firmly saying.

"...she is still your mate. We protect our own."

She was still his mate? She hadn't been sure about that. There was so much she still didn't understand, and Edward had left town before he finished explaining it all to her.

It wasn't that there hadn't been ample opportunity. It was just that it was a topic that Edward had seemed to have great difficulty discussing before he left...at least with words. Every time they had tried, she had quickly found herself either straddling his lap or on her back beneath him, his tongue in her mouth forestalling any further conversation — although she certainly hadn't been complaining about that at the time.

She shivered, just the tiniest bit. She couldn't even think about anything like that right now. At the moment, she wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to again.

But that wasn't the most important part of what she had just heard.

Since when did Carlisle have to instruct Edward to protect her? She started to shake again.

Despite her best effort, she couldn't pick out a word of Edward's response, not even after drawing as close as she dared on shaky legs.

"I think you may be wrong about that," Carlisle was saying, the next words she could hear. "You didn't see that girl watching for you every second after you and Alice left tonight. I did."

Humiliation flooded every inch of her. She was grateful this time that she couldn't hear Edward's response. But the humiliation only deepened when Carlisle started speaking again, although she couldn't catch all of it.

"I stopped going to the door to check on her after the first hour, because she looked so disappointed every time she saw me...she still feels your mate bond, Edward, just as strongly as she did before. I'd stake my reputation on...""

The words were bad enough, the mortifying fact that Edward knew just how pathetic and desperate she was, when he clearly no longer felt the same.

And then something even worse happened.

He saw her. He suddenly glanced up over Carlisle's shoulder, his eyes locking straight on hers like gravity had pulled them there.

"Carlisle," he stopped his father with one quiet word, alerting him to her presence.

He knew. But what surprised and confused her was his eyes. They were so...kind. Even she could see the tenderness there.

Chivalry, her insecurities screamed. He was a gentleman. She had been hurt, so he didn't want to rub her nose in his rejection.

He started toward her, and she nearly tumbled down the stairs trying to back away. She gripped the handrail for dear life. She didn't want this. She didn't want his damn pity.

"Please be careful, love." The sweet words were like acid thrown in her face. "Are you all right? Do you need anything?"

Not from him, she didn't. And at the same time, she needed everything. She wanted him to call her 'love' again in that gentle voice she had missed more than she realized, the one that sounded right. Not the one from the other Edward, in the forest, when everything was so wrong that it hurt.

She wanted this Edward to take care of her, make her feel safe again.

Some small part of her wanted to throw herself down those stairs, just to see if he would catch her, just to feel his arms around her.

But with a fierceness that surprised her, she also didn't want him or anybody else to fucking touch her — including Carlisle and his apparent determination to force Edward to stick by her now that she was broken.

And they were both slowly getting closer.

Hurt anger swelled up inside her. Leave me alone. Leave me alone. Leave me alone.

She wasn't sure if she said it or if her mind just screamed it.

But she turned and fled before the first tear fell.

Frustration flooded Edward as he stared up the stairs after Bella ran. Her cries from the bathroom ripped through him like wildfire.

And there wasn't one goddamn thing he could do about it without risking making it worse.

His initial decision was to wait for Alice, since Carlisle had already told him she was on the way and Bella had seemed comfortable with her earlier, at least.

Neither he nor Carlisle were an option. She had literally just run away from them both, told them to leave her alone.

But he'd be damned if he was sending in Jacob and his idiotic hero fantasies to console her, either. Violently throwing Jacob straight through the bathroom window and into the nearest tree if he got too touchy-feely wasn't going to make Bella less afraid of him. So the mutt could just stay out of the way and keep snoring as long as he liked. Forever would be good.

So Alice it was, then.

But Alice must have seen that decision coming and decided to throw him a curveball, because he got a very cryptic text approximately two seconds after he told Carlisle he thought that was what they should do.

"Got sidetracked. Helping Jazz and Em with something. Won't be back for a while. You're still letting me pick out your clothes later."

"Damn it." Edward passed a weary hand over his face. Bella's cries pulled him like the moon pulled the tide. And yet the last thing he wanted was to blunder in and make it worse.

"Where are Esme and Rosalie?" he asked Carlisle, his frustration rising. "I know you're all hiding something from me, but right now I don't care. I need their help."

Carlisle immediately started guarding his thoughts, confirming those suspicions. "I'm sorry, son. That's not an option right now. They're in Seattle, observing a new...situation there. I'd have gone myself, but with everything that has been happening here with Victoria, I didn't think it wise for myself or your brothers to leave Bella."

That was definitely not what Edward had expected, but it made him even more uneasy. If his family was involved, that meant vampires. And if they didn't want to tell him, that meant Bella.

Seattle was way too close to Forks, especially when Bella was in Forks. Especially now, when he couldn't get close enough to protect her as well as he would like.

There was also no guarantee she wouldn't take off to La Push at any moment, out of his reach. He looked up the stairs, his muscles tensing as his panic over that prospect rose.

He'd apologized for kidnapping Bella before, and he'd meant it. She'd accepted. But even then, they had both known he'd do it again, without blinking, if it came down to a choice between her will and her safety. She admitted as much herself, in the hospital. And despite every promise he'd made to himself to be completely nonthreatening, here he was seriously considering it again.

But what he wasn't sure of was whether there would be forgiveness forthcoming again, especially not now. He'd really, really rather not be forced to take that route.

"Seattle." He repeated the word grimly, untensing his hands one finger at a time. Think, damn it, he berated himself. Don't react. Think. "What business do we have in Seattle?"

"Possibly none. It could be a simple coincidence. I'm taking a proactive stance, so to speak. I'll not allow this family to be hurt again if there's a way to prevent it. Not on my watch."

Edward's phone chirped again, just before he could ask any more questions, and he very nearly rolled his eyes. Interesting timing. Coincidences and Alice weren't two things that belonged in the same sentence.

"Slow down. Before you resort to kidnapping, try knocking on the door and just being honest with her. I promise it'll be okay. I know what I'm doing."

The diversion worked. He forgot all about Seattle, his jaw ticking with frustration as he read that text.

Be honest with her.

He'd come to the same conclusion himself, earlier, in his room. Honesty the best policy, and all that.

He'd tried it, and it had kicked him in the teeth. At just a few honest words from him, Bella had gone into a borderline panic attack that had required Jacob's hands on her to calm.

Be honest with her. Sure. Easy. Just tell her everything, right?

How, exactly, would that conversation go? Hi, Bella, I realize you're terrified at the sight of me right now, and I know I broke your heart and left you alone for seven months to deal with not just one but two monsters hellbent on hurting you, but I did all of that for you. You can trust me. Really. So please open the door and just let me hold you, despite all the pain I've caused you, because if I don't feel you safely in my arms soon, I'm going to lose my damn mind.

By the way, I was wondering if you still feel anything for me at all, or have I lost you to the giant werewolf camped out on the floor in my room? Because I'm doing my best to not kill him for you, I really am, but it's extraordinarily tempting.

Of course. That ought to set her right at ease.

But why stop there? While he was at it, why not just unload every sick, twisted, violent imagining that his psyche had dreamed up since he walked in and saw the bruises covering her soft skin, all the dark punishments he fully intended to inflict when he got his hands on the one responsible for putting those marks there?

He could show her the depth of his rage, let her in on the disturbing fact that, God help him, his more murderous thoughts were the only thing keeping him going, especially since he couldn't touch her, hold her, do something to calm that primal ache in him that needed his mate close, needed to physically get his arms around her, defend her, bare his teeth and snarl and growl at anything that got near her.

He could tell her how he had a burning desire to wrap her up in his embrace, breathe all over her and cover her in his scent until any supernatural creature — vampire, wolf, or otherwise — knew exactly who she belonged to and what he would do to them if they touched her.

Because if he was honest, as Alice suggested? Those would be the things he confessed. And if that didn't drive her the rest of the way away, nothing would.

"That's not a bad idea," Carlisle remarked, bringing Edward's shocked eyes up from scowling at his phone. But his father hadn't suddenly become a mindreader with highly questionable judgment, although at that point, nothing would have surprised him. Carlisle was leaned forward, reading the text from Alice upside down.

Another vote for honesty. Edward stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"I can't go up there! What the hell am I supposed to say to her, Carlisle?" he exploded. "She can barely look at me, much less come near me, and how can I blame her? I've done nothing but make things worse for her since I got here! She'd be better off if I never came back at all."

"Would you like me to try?" Carlisle asked calmly. Too calmly. And Edward bristled at the very thought.

Then he sighed. One of the worst things about being a mindreader was knowing when you were being played and knowing it was going to work anyway. Carlisle was calling his bluff. He knew full well that Edward wouldn't be able to send another male and stay away, anyway. He was just cutting straight to the inevitable.

"You already know the answer to that. Just do me a favor?"

"Of course."

Edward took a deep breath, looking up the stairs. Bella's sobs hadn't diminished. God, how he hated to hear her cry.

"If she bolts on me? Please stop her. Just don't let her out of the house. I can't be the one to physically chase her down and put my hands on her, Carlisle. I won't, not after what I think he did to her today. But it's not safe for her outside this house, either, so if you don't stop her, I'll have to." His eyes pled for understanding. Don't make me do that.

"You have my word."

And he knew he did. Because even if he hadn't been able to read his father's thoughts, Carlisle's sympathetic eyes made it clear he understood exactly what it cost Edward to make such a request.

The tears Bella had held back all afternoon finally hit her with full force, as she slid down the heavy wood bathroom door to sit on the cold floor with her knees drawn up. She buried her face in her knees, her hands covering her head, rocking back and forth.

She had pushed it down all day. But after coming unexpectedly face-to-face with Edward in the hushed darkness downstairs, it was all flooding back, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Her own words back in the forest rang in her ears, taunting her.

"You're not him. ... He's going to kill you if you touch me again."

Those words had sealed her fate.

And in the end, she had been stupid to say them, to ever believe them. Because the real Edward didn't even react when he saw her bruised body, didn't even seem to care. He wasn't going to be avenging her.

But inaccurate or not, she had still been a fool to say it, to taunt a vampire she knew wasn't him.

It was all her fault, she concluded.

All of it.

First of all, it shouldn't have taken her hours in the presence of an impostor to figure it out, despite the impossibility of someone else both looking and sounding exactly like Edward.

Did Edward know, she wondered, that she had been tricked, that she had believed the worst of him? Because she had. Before she figured it out, she had firmly believed he was either a cheater, a liar, a murderer, or all three. She had believed he always had been.

Was that why he didn't care what had happened to her?

Did he think she deserved it?

But her mistakes didn't end there. Even when she figured out that her abductor was a fraud, she should never have called him out on it. She should have pretended, let him continue kissing her and sweet-talking her, spinning beautiful lies as she bought time for herself to find a way out.

She had sensed how dangerous he was, even before she literally stumbled onto the evidence that he was a murdering monster. Still, she should have just gone along with him. He had been gentle, solicitous, kind to her, at least for the most part, after he kidnapped her out of her yard, even if his touch made her skin crawl even before she realized it wasn't really Edward.

But she hadn't played it smart, she berated herself. The very second she realized he was a fraud, it came out of her mouth — and immediately set him off.

"You're not him... He's going to kill you if you touch me again."

"He tried that once already."

She had thought that mystifying statement meant he was done pretending to be Edward.

But she was very, very mistaken about that. He was just getting started.

The things he had said, after he roughly threw her to the ground and ripped her shirt open, about how he would prove it to her if she didn't believe him — that his mate wasn't going to talk to him that way, and he'd show her exactly who and what she was mated to...

She couldn't get it out of her head.

Especially every time she came face-to-face with the real Edward, and her heart started pounding with a fight-or-flight reaction she couldn't control.

Her mind knew it wasn't him.

Or...it was trying to.

The brutal vampire with Edward's face had followed her to the ground, straddled her waist, held her by the throat and repeatedly forced her to look him in the eye and say his name if she wanted to breathe.

No, not his name. She didn't even know his name. It was Edward's name he forced her to say. Or were they the same? After a while, she couldn't remember and she couldn't breathe. The line of distinction started to blur in her mind.

It was only then that he tore her already destroyed shirt from her body like paper, painfully ripping her bra in half at the same time, while she gasped to regain her breath. When she immediately used her arms to cover her chest, his hands just slowly slid down her skin to the waistband of her jeans.

She begged him to stop, at that point. She looked him in the eye and called him Edward without being asked, because she had already learned that it pissed him off when she didn't.

He ripped the front right off of her jeans with a violent yank, before tearing them the rest of the way from her body in one fluid motion. Her hands left her chest and covered her face instead.

"Please don't...Edward...Edward...stop."

She sobbed as she clenched her thighs together tightly in an attempt to preserve her modesty. Her panties he tore slowly, enjoying her pleas to stop.

He made her say his name again — Edward's name, she reminded herself numbly — as he did it.

He yanked her wrists with enough force to bruise, pulling her hands away from her face to make her look at him when she was completely bare.

"I'm going to enjoy this, love," he sneered into her frightened face. "I should have claimed you a long time ago. Now, say my name."

It was an alien, surreal feeling, seeing Edward's beloved face above her when punishing hands grabbed her biceps and abruptly pushed her arms far back over her head, ripping a pained yelp from her throat.

He held her arms just below the armpits, shoving her upper arms hard to the ground beside her ears, a position that held her completely helpless and forced her to unwillingly arch her bare chest toward him in invitation.

She'd nearly dislocated her shoulder twisting and bucking, desperately trying to free herself, cover herself. Her hands had uselessly clawed the ground behind her head, unable to achieve any type of leverage whatsoever.

His knees shoved her legs apart, inserting his fully-clothed body between them before dropping his crushing weight onto her. He'd pinned her hips down with his own to further immobilize her. She could feel his arousal, stiff and hard against her naked flesh through his pants...and it had utterly terrified her. He was enjoying this.

This wasn't how it was supposed to happen.

Then he had put his mouth, his tongue, on her breasts, her nipples, while she screamed.

He hurt her less when she called him Edward as she begged him to stop. She learned that very quickly.

Time lost all meaning.

He hadn't been gentle. He hadn't been in a hurry, either.

In the present, standing in the bathroom, her hands shook as she looked down at her fingers, horrified at what she saw.

The first thing she had done when she reached the Cullen home was shower, scrubbing her skin raw. She just couldn't stop, at least until Alice gently pulled her out of water that was starting to run cold and dressed her in soft, warm sweatpants and a t-shirt. She put her on Edward's soft leather couch, despite her tears and protests that she didn't belong there.

Even after all of that, there was still dirt under her fingernails from where her hands had been free to uselessly flail and scrabble for purchase against the cold ground behind her head.

That hadn't even been the worst of it.

He had let her arms go, eventually, the pain of returning circulation rivaling the pain of her raw nipples as she immediately crossed her arms over her breasts to protect them. His weight on her disappeared.

It was little comfort, because then there had been the terrifying feel of that same cold, brutal grip on her thighs. She had put up a good fight, but she had no hope. He got them spread wide easily, despite her fierce struggles to close them again. He ruthlessly shoved them wider apart, held them there with his body, leaving her spread wide and exposed.

He cruelly touched, fondled, terrorized the outside of her, making her wonder when it would happen. She didn't know how long it had gone on.

He wouldn't let her close her eyes or look away. He squeezed her throat shut and cut off her air when she tried.

He made her say his name...Edward's name...his name...God, she couldn't even remember which was which...over and over again as he terrorized her.

Until something in her snapped, decided to fight back.

"You're not HIM!"

She screamed it as loud as she could, over and over, like a mantra as she fought him. The insides of her legs were going to be bruised with his grip, but she fought like she was possessed.

Her defiant words put an end to the slow torment, at least. His fingers abruptly pushed inside her dry... she didn't know how many... fingers that looked like Edward's, as she alternately screamed horrifically contrasting phrases, with her eyes squeezed shut...

You're not him...you're NOT HIM...Edward, please stop...please...you're not him...EDWARD, STOP...you're hurting me...you're not him...

The words lost all meaning, just like time.

She had smelled her own blood but didn't even know where it came from. Was it from there, or was it from the multiple abrasions of her skin against the hard ground? She knew her lip was bleeding. She tasted the blood when she bit into it.

Was she even a virgin anymore? Did it even matter?

It kind of mattered to her now, no matter how many times she'd told Edward — the real Edward — that she could care less about that.

Then there was the most shameful part of all, the part she prayed her three rescuers didn't know, that they hadn't been privy to as they arrived. Even if they had seen literally everything else.

He'd manipulated her body, his fingers alternating between rough and gentle inside her, his thumb painfully pushing against the most sensitive spot on her body, the bundle of nerves she'd only ever discovered and touched when she lay in her bed and thought about Edward, when she'd entertained deliciously naughty thoughts of him touching her exactly there.

She was utterly horrified by what she'd done.

Her body had responded to the forced, painful stimulation, utterly against her will, at the hands of a cruel stranger. It was unforgivable, even to herself. She couldn't imagine what the Cullens...Jacob...Edward would think if they knew. They could never find that out. She'd sooner die.

At some point, her mind went blank, protecting itself the only way it knew how — by retreating inside itself.

The next thing she remembered was the shocking appearance of a huge, russet-colored wolf barreling toward her. She only saw it because she'd turned her head to the side, determined not to look at the handsome, terrifying face above her anymore, even if he killed her for it.

In her panic and terror, she thought she was imagining that wolf, until her attacker's weight disappeared from her body and he fled at the sight.

She now knew the wolf to be Jacob, although she still couldn't quite wrap her mind around that part. It had stopped beside her, staring at her, before throwing its head back with a ferocious growl. She only had enough time to process that she was surely about to die, before the wolf took off in the same direction as the impostor.

Emmett and Jasper appeared above her just as the wolf ran off, and then things became even more terrifying.

She had lain on the ground, trying to cover herself, while Emmett and Jasper inexplicably battled two giant wolves. She'd found the will to scramble to her feet. Leaving her ruined clothes behind, she'd tried to run, to hide.

She only made it about 50 feet.

That was when Emmett appeared in front of her out of nowhere, stopping her without touching her, his hands held out to the side as he called her name and promised not to hurt her. She had no idea how many times he said it before she finally processed it and stopped backing away in terror, afraid to go any farther backward, either, because the two wolves were still back there, growling and whining. Emmett's stricken eyes stayed locked carefully on her face and his voice was soft.

One second he was wearing a huge blue hoodie. The next, it was a plain white tank top, and the blue hoodie was in his hand, held out to her in offering. Her eyes weren't fast enough to process the transition. They did process that the sleeveless tank made his hugely muscled frame all the more daunting. Since when did she want to run from Emmett?

But she'd snatched the blue fabric out of his hand, ripped it over her head, down onto her filthy, dirt-streaked body before covering her face with her hands, swaying precariously.

Blue. What a strange thing to think of, in that moment.

Edward liked her in blue.

Emmett caught her just as she started to collapse; picked her up and cradled her in his arms. He informed the growling wolves, flanking him on each side, that he'd go straight through them if he had to, but he was taking his little sister to the hospital.

He'd talked to her all the way there, on the long run back through the forest. Told her how brave she was, that she was going to be okay, that nobody was going to hurt her anymore.

She'd clutched at his shirt and desperately told him...something. She couldn't remember now.

It was important, though. She knew that much. She'd told him over and over.

She never saw Jasper again, after she ran. He wasn't there anymore by the time Emmett picked her up. Had her blood tempted him, even as she lay on the ground, broken? Her tattered clothes had also disappeared from the ground. Did he take them? And why?

She wasn't prepared to deal with any of it yet, not there, not in the Cullen house. Not any of it.

The dirt under her fingernails horrified her. She needed to get her hands clean.

She pushed to her feet, swaying back and forth with dizziness, not letting it deter her efforts to get to the sink.

But she was only two steps away from the door when there was a soft knock, and her heart started pounding as she looked wildly around the room.

She was trapped.

It took every ounce of courage he had to bring his hand up to the door and knock to make his presence known.

"Bella...it's Edward."

His tone was as gentle as he could make it. He still heard the increased panic in her breathing, straight through the heavy door, the way her heart sped up in fear, and it nearly broke him.

He had startled her, made her feel trapped, and he could smell her terror. A flash of anger toward Alice surged through him. Whatever her flimsy excuse for forcing him to do this himself, he highly suspected it had more to do with Alice's singleminded focus on what was best for him, the approach most likely to force him and Bella together. Because how could putting Bella through something like this be what was best for her?

"I just want to know you're okay, Bella." He allowed no trace of his anger with Alice into his voice. "I'm not going to hurt you. I won't touch you if you don't want me to. But I need to make sure you're all right. Can you talk to me?"

Agonizing seconds passed without a word, but at least the panicked rhythm to her breathing ebbed. She was standing still, a couple feet from the door — his highly attuned ears could pick up that much — and her initial terror was subsiding.

"It's okay," he said gently. "I'll stay out here. You don't even have to open the door. But please talk to me."

There was still no answer, but he'd already figured out not to expect one. She was breathing easier and her heart rate was settling back down, and she wasn't trying to run. That was enough, for the moment. She wasn't in danger, at least physically.

And he'd do whatever it took to convince her of that.

"I'm going to sit down outside the door, okay? I won't open it, not unless you ask me to. I'm not going to do that." Unless he had reason to believe she was in physical danger or he heard her trying to go out the second-story window, in which case he'd have that door out of his way in less than a second. But he wasn't telling her that. Honesty only went so far.

"I'm just going to sit here and talk."

He lowered himself to the ground, eyes locked on the shadow he saw beneath the door. She was standing still.

"Why don't you sit down too, Bella?" he suggested cautiously. Because he hadn't forgotten how wobbly she was standing on the stairs, and the sudden thought of her falling and hitting her head on the sink had his fingers twitching to break that door down, despite his promise. And they didn't need that.

She didn't sit. But she did take a step closer to the door, and his dead heart soared. His approach was working.

Keep talking, his instincts screamed.

"I went hunting with Alice," he volunteered, the least inflammatory topic he could think of, out of multiple bad options. He kept his voice just loud enough to know she heard it, his tone conversational. "She was serious earlier, about me buying her a car. And I'm happy to do it. You may not have seen her, but she's been watching over you while I've been gone. My whole family, but especially Alice. And Emmett. I owe them all, more than I could ever repay."

Her breathing sped up, and he wasn't sure why. Was it the reference to big, physically imposing Emmett, who had found her naked in the forest? Or to his family lurking in the shadows, in general? He decided to walk it back a little.

"Emmett won't ask for a car, though. Truthfully, he'd probably prefer that I buy you one. As would I, if you'd allow me." He injected a smile he didn't really feel into his voice. "You know how he feels about your truck. It personally offends him."

No reaction, at least that he could hear. Enough of this. If his presence was making things worse, he was offering her an out. Right then and there.

"Speaking of Alice, I promise that she'll be back very soon, if you would prefer her company."

That wasn't an empty promise. If Bella expressed a desire for it to happen, he'd find Alice and drag her back himself.

"She'd love to spend some time with you. My sister has missed you very much."

He heard it — the little catch in her breath. The pained catch in her breath. And unlike in his room earlier, he wasn't oblivious to the reason. On the contrary, his mistake hit him in the gut like a lightning bolt.

He had overcompensated again.

He didn't just need to reassure her that he posed no physical threat. She was equally as unsure of his heart — despite the fact that she held it in her delicate hands.

How could he assure her of one without frightening her about the other?

"And I missed you too, of course," he amended, his voice strained. Please, please don't run, his heart silently screamed. "I can't begin to describe how much."

But instead of running, she took another step closer to the door, standing close enough to touch it now. Her scent exploded in his throat. It was the closest he'd been to her since he got back, even if it was through a door. Closer than he'd sat to her on the couch in his room. He barely noticed the fiery burn. His other senses were alight with her.

"I was in Brazil for seven months," he continued, a little less hesitantly. Maybe Alice was right after all. Maybe he did need to be the one at the door. "And there are only five days even worth remembering."

She slowly lowered herself to the floor on the other side of the door. He was just as aware of it as he would have been were he looking right at her.

"They were the five days I got to hear your voice, through the phone. Those were the only days I felt alive, if that's what I am. Nothing else mattered to me, aside from you. It still doesn't. No matter what happened today, Bella, it never will."

The salty smell of fresh tears hit him, and he inched his body closer to the door, cautiously stretching out a hand to touch it. He could almost feel her heat straight through the door, and somehow he knew — he just knew — that she was doing the same on the other side, their palms pressed together with the door between them.

Carlisle had been right about their bond. He could feel it, the hum of the pull between them, drawing him closer — compelling him to tell her the one thing he'd sworn he wouldn't.

He shouldn't tell her. His rage wasn't her burden to bear.

But it was swelling up from his chest, and he couldn't hold it in. Something in him needed to say it.

His forehead fell against the door with a nearly inaudible groan as he surrendered.

"I'm going to enjoy killing him, Bella" he confessed hoarsely, and heard her surprised inhale. He couldn't stop himself. The urge to spill his guts to her was all-consuming. "That may be the wrong thing to tell you. I don't know. But it's the truth. I intend to find him, and I'm going to kill him. I'm going to tear him into a million pieces."

His guts clenched when he realized she was backing away from the door, and he cursed himself for a fool. What right did he have to lay such a thing on her?

But then he heard the click of the door being unlocked. And his breath froze in his throat. He lifted his head and went completely still, eyes wide.

She had only backed up enough to let the door swing open. And then she was there where he could see her, sitting on the floor with her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, watery eyes locked on him. She studied him intently.

He hadn't intended to say another word. But his confession wasn't done, apparently, and he didn't try to hide the growl in his voice or the murder in his eyes. He couldn't.

"You probably think I'm a monster. But God help me, Bella, ripping apart the monster that hurt you is the only thought that brings me even the slightest comfort."

After another moment of studying him intently, she buried her face in her knees, and he heard the little sob. He dug his fists into the ground at his sides so hard the floor dented, trying to keep himself in place. Every cell in his body wanted to go to her, pull her face up so he could see her eyes.

"Please don't be afraid of me," he begged in a harsh whisper, instead. "Please."

And then she turned his world upside down, not for the first time that day.

"I told him you would," she whispered into her knees, the first time she'd spoken since she told him to leave her alone.

That statement sent him reeling, damn near knocked the breath out of him.

Did she mean what he thought she meant? Because that would imply that she knew it wasn't him at the time she was being assaulted. It would mean that some part of her had believed in him enough to know he would avenge her, at the very least. He could barely dare to hope.

It was only with great difficulty that he kept his voice within the same universe as anything that could be considered calm. He needed to see her eyes, but she had them hidden in her knees.

"You told him I would what, sweetheart? Can you tell me what you mean?"

Seconds ticked past.

If she wanted to tell him, she would, he lectured himself sternly, holding his tongue. His monster saw an opportunity. It was salivating to pepper her with questions, pry out any information that would get it closer to the dark revenge it desired.

But his monster could shut the hell up. She was actually talking to him, and he'd be damned if he was turning that precious gift into an interrogation. There would be time for all of that later.

He had nearly given up on her answering, was trying to think of a less threatening topic that would keep that door open, when she suddenly did the equivalent of reaching into his chest and starting his icy heart beating again.

"I told him you'd kill him if he touched me." She stated it flatly, but there was a question there when she peeked up at him, studying him very intently again as she waited for his reaction.

He couldn't even wonder what she was looking for. One awe-inspiring realization held his mind captive. She knew. When the worst happened, she knew the difference. She knew it wasn't him.

And she had defended him to his impostor.

It was both touching and terrifying, because such defiance could so easily have gotten her killed.

The protectiveness that swelled up in his chest was dizzying. He wanted her in his arms with a fierceness that was near feral. But the overture she had just made was a test if he had ever heard one. And it was one he intended to pass.

"And you were right, Bella. I will. Hurting you is an offense I won't forgive. You knew that in your heart, and I'm glad."

He would show no mercy, either, when he got his hands on that lowlife son of a bitch. But he restrained his tongue from expounding on the details any further. And it was a good thing, because Bella wasn't finished turning him inside out and upside down.

"He said you already tried to kill him once," she whispered. "Who is he, Edward? Why did he want to hurt me?"

His brow furrowed with confusion. He remembered every kill he had ever made, with great clarity. He might not be proud of it — aside from killing James, for which he felt no remorse whatsoever — but anything he had ever attempted to kill was very dead, human or otherwise. Losing a fight was something he would definitely remember, and he didn't.

But none of that helped him at the moment. Looking into Bella's frightened, pleading eyes, he wanted to put his fist through the floor. The only thing his mate asked of him was answers, and he couldn't even provide those.

"I don't know yet," he told her honestly. "But I swear to you that I'll find out."

She bit her lip, hugged herself tighter. "You don't think — I mean, I know this sounds crazy, but — you don't think it's James, do you?"

The very real fear on her face was more than he could bear. He slid forward across the floor, until he was barely inside the bathroom door. Close enough that if they both reached out, he could touch her. It was all he could do not to get even closer and cup her face in his hands. He needed her to understand.

"No." He said it unequivocally. "Bella, look at me. James is dead. Do you hear me? I tore him apart myself and burned the pieces. He's gone. I promise you that whoever this is, it's not James. He can't touch you. I made sure of it."

She nodded, looking away. "I believe you."

Hope soared in him, and suddenly he didn't want to talk about James or Victoria anymore.

Instead, very tentatively, he stretched out one hand toward her, lying the back of his knuckles against the floor. His palm was open, upturned, stretched out to her in invitation to take it. If she wanted to come to him, the door was open.

"Then believe this too. I'm not going anywhere, not ever again. When you're ready, I'll be here, to listen or anything else you need. It's up to you, Bella. But I'm here."

Her eyes went back and forth between his hand and his face, her fingers twisting together like it took an effort to keep from accepting his offer and putting her hand in his.

And there was just one second where he thought she might even launch herself into his arms. He could almost feel her there.

And then the moment was broken. He sighed, and gave her the only warning he had time to get out.

"Jacob's waking up," he murmured, reluctantly pulling his hand back and sliding slightly back out into the hall where he would be visible, where he could intercept him. "He'll be looking for you in a second."

That was something of an understatement, because in reality, he knew that as soon as he realized she was missing, Jacob was going to come barreling down the hall like a dog possessed, ready to shred vampires first and ask questions later. Which meant that if Edward had any self-preservation instincts, he would at least get to his feet. But Bella stayed on the ground, so he did the same, not willing to risk startling her with any sudden movement.

"Bella!" There was panic in Jacob's voice from Edward's room. Panic that could lead to phasing. "Bella!"

"She's down here," Edward called back, a little grudgingly, not really willing to give up his time with her.

Sure enough, the shirtless boy appeared around the corner near instantly, coming straight at them, his still sleepy eyes wildly taking in the situation as he approached the bathroom door. "Why is Bella on the floor? What'd you do to her now, Cullen?"

And that was just about the limit of Edward's patience, because Bella's eyes widened and she shrank away from the rapidly approaching, tall and muscular frame.

And Jacob, he could see, fully intended to sweep right into that bathroom and physically yank her up without warning. That was bad enough, but if he phased with her in his arms...

Edward was on his feet in a flash, grabbing Jacob by the arm to stop his forward momentum toward Bella. He swung him around and pushed him back but kept hold of him, putting his own back to Bella, keeping himself between the two of them.

"You're scaring her," he grit out between clenched teeth. "Calm down."

Jacob yanked his arm and hissed angrily, but he couldn't break Edward's iron grip. "Take your fucking hands off of me, leech."

Edward's voice was cold. "Then keep your hands off of her until you control yourself." Or for the rest of eternity, his possessive monster suggested internally. Jacob vibrated under his hand, dangerously close to losing control. When Edward chanced a glance over his shoulder, Bella's face was back in her knees, her hands over her head. And she was shaking.

His fury melted. As did any selfish urge to keep Jacob from her, so long as he got control of himself.

Slowly, he released Jacob's arm and backed up a step, using the same hand to gesture toward Bella. His next words were spoken low, so only Jacob could hear. "She's seen enough of this for one day, don't you think?"

He'd only heard Alice's descriptions earlier, of the fight Jasper and Emmett had gotten into with Jacob and Paul when Bella had been found. There had been nothing to see because Alice hadn't seen it for herself. She had only been relaying what she had heard from Jasper.

But Jacob had been there. And when he glanced at Bella and instantly understood Edward's meaning — and fully agreed, incidentally, making a conscious decision to behave civilly — Edward got the dubious honor of seeing it in Jacob's quick memory.

Snarls and snaps. More supernatural violence than he'd ever have wanted her to witness.

But worst was Jacob's guilty but vivid memory of a terrified, naked Bella trying to run away alone.

Seeing it was quite different than hearing a secondhand account.

He saw Emmett through Jacob's eyes. Emmett, who was the first to stop fighting and focus on Bella, earning a grudging respect from Jacob.

Emmett. Stopping her without touching her, promising not to hurt her. He offered her his hoodie and caught her gently when she collapsed. He ignored the blood on her scratched-up back like it didn't affect him in the slightest. He picked her up with a tenderness that was surprising, murmuring soothing nonsense.

God, he was going to buy Emmett something too — anything he wanted.

And then Edward saw something Jacob hadn't intended to let slip...for his own selfish reasons.

Something Bella had said just after Emmett picked her up. Something she had kept saying, repeatedly, while clutching at his shirt and staring up at him with terrified eyes.

"It wasn't him...it wasn't him...Edward...it wasn't him."

The memory cut off abruptly, and Edward's mouth fell slightly open as he locked eyes with Jacob. He was frozen into place, stunned. Jacob narrowed his eyes at him, scowling.

"The other leech would have told you anyway. Now get out of the way so I can get her off the floor."

He nodded mutely, still processing what he had heard as he stepped aside. He was still considering it as he watched a much calmer Jacob kneel and rub Bella's back, softly letting her know what he was about to do before he scooped her up in his arms to carry her back to Edward's room.

Bella's body was pliant and near limp in Jacob's arms, wrapping her arms around his neck and resting her head on his shoulder like she was exhausted. And he had no doubt that she was, emotionally and physically.

The sight made Edward's own arms feel painfully empty, wishing they were the ones wrapped around her, helping her.

They weren't.

But it was his eyes that she sought out, when she lifted up her head and looked over Jacob's shoulder just before they disappeared back into his room.

TO BE CONTINUED...