Bella, Monday night.

The word "safe-house" had conjured images from the movies-all I knew on the subject-of small, dark and dank, littered with dirty mattresses -but this? This was not at all any of those. From the outside, it didn't look like much, though the beauty that surrounded the house had quickly gathered my attention. The two agents, Seth and Jared, as they had introduced themselves to me, had put me in the back of a tinted black Escalade and we had driven quickly for a couple of hours down the coast. Eventually, after a small trek through the forest (and only two mishaps—the first, a trip over a root and the second, a trip over Seth's foot), we stopped in front of the safe-house which sat on top of a steep hill above a sandy beach—all leading to one of my favorite places: the pacific ocean.

"Wow," I muttered.

"Better than you had expected?" grinned one of the agents-Seth, I reminded myself. He had a sideways grin that instinctively made me want to smile back, and he exuded a quiet friendliness that I was thankful for. Especially since the other one, Jared, seemed his opposite.

"Thank the taxpayers," grumbled Jared, motioning for me to keep following him.

"Don't mind him, Ms. Swan, he hates the great outdoors," replied Seth, bringing up the rear, his sharp eyes carefully surveying the woods around us.

"Bella. Call me Bella."

The house itself, from the outside at least, was modest, with no distinguishing characteristics-which I quickly realized was the point. Its faded grey exterior blended in perfectly with the overcast sky. Small, but not a shack, it didn't demand attention or even a second glance. But the inside…apparently, that's where all the taxpayers money went. It was decorated perfectly in outdoorsy cherry wood tones. Upon entering, the short hallway opened into a huge, open room—the living room, I figured. A huge cocoa L-shaped couch sat in front of a gigantic television and media area. Slightly to the left of the media equipment was a beautiful old fireplace, wood neatly stacked nearby. Near the couch stood a finely crafted wooden rocking chair and close to that, an overstuffed loveseat. The walls were adorned with very dark toned art-work which, despite my fatigue, I noticed pulled the room together impressively. My thoughts turned to Alice for a moment as I realized just how much she would appreciate the décor of this place. Something twisted painfully at my heart but I ignored it and allowed the numbness I'd been holding onto to fall back into place.

I couldn't fall apart now.

"You hungry? Kitchen's this way," spoke Seth, smiling at me gently.

"Movies are so full of lies," I muttered, giving the living room one last glance and pushing all thoughts of Alice from my mind.

"I'm going to go secure the perimeter," said Jared, grabbing a duffle bag and heading back out the front door. I wondered exactly what that meant.

I followed Seth into a kitchen that was also completely done in a deep wooden cherry. It was open, with a brown granite island in the middle. Towards the front end of the kitchen, a glassed in kitchen nook overlooked the choppy grey ocean. As always, the sky seemed on the verge of an angry outburst.

"This place is…are you sure this is a safe-house?" I asked, turning to Seth.

"Yeah, this is one of our nicer ones, a prototype of what we want future houses to mimic. We're lucky they didn't put you in the one closer to the city. It's pretty gross. Seen a lot of action."

At his words, my mouth opened slightly, but Seth didn't notice my horrified expression as he rummaged through the pantry.

"Unfortunately, they haven't improved on the food situation. Non-perishables," he said, holding up a can of beans with an apologetic expression. "Whoever comes up later will probably bring some better stuff."

I wanted so badly to ask if it would be Edward. I wanted it so badly to be Edward.

You told him to go away.

I refrained from asking and the knot in my stomach tightened another notch.

"Where do I sleep?" I asked, averting my eyes and fidgeting with my hair, curling a strand around my finger and then releasing it.

"Oh! Damn, I'm sorry. You're probably exhausted, let me show you. This place is really just one floor and you'll be staying in the room at the end of the hallway, off the living room. Come on." I followed Seth once more across the living room and down a wide hallway. We stopped at a closed door at the end.

"I don't want to freak you out too much, Bella, but I've got to show you this," he said softly, switching on the light. Like the rest of the house, the room was decorated like it was ready for a Pottery Barn photo shoot. In the plain jeans and shirt, bandaged arms and limp hair, I felt like I didn't fit.

I watched as Seth stood in front of a painting depicting a white wooden chair sitting in front of a white sandy beach and brilliant blue water. I studied the picture and then looked at Seth in confusion. Was I supposed to know something about the picture?

"Uhm, I don't know much about art, but it's not that freaky…I was expecting a Salvador Dali," I joked weakly, confused. Seth just smiled and then touched the bottom right corner of the picture. I followed his gaze and knew my mouth must have been hanging open as I watched the built in bookcase suddenly move silently aside, revealing a small opening in the wall that disappeared into darkness.

"This is for emergencies, Bella. There are passageways just like this one located all over the house and they all lead to the same two places. The first is a panic room. If anything happens here, Bella, if anyone finds us, you can locate any passage and lock yourself in the panic room. There is enough food and water in there to last for weeks. The second is an underground exit. It twists and turns and goes on for awhile, but ultimately, it will spit you out close to the highway, fairly far from here. Far enough that you would be very far ahead of anyone after you."

My throat dry, I swallowed roughly as he touched the place on the picture again and the bookcase slid shut.

"Don't worry; the chances are slim to none. But just in case—it's better to be prepared. I'll show you the rest later. Oh, and we'll have more clothes for you in a few hours, as well. Now get some rest."

I managed a small smile and watched as Seth closed the door.

"Oh! Seth, wait. Can anyone get in from the tunnels? I mean, from wherever the opening is by the highway? Would anyone be able to find it and sneak in here?"

"No, you're safe. Our men are the only ones who know where it is. And even we would be hard-pressed to get in from the outside. The opening is not easy to find."

I nodded, but for some reason, that didn't make me feel any better.

I spent the next 24 hours wide awake.

I spent the following 24 hours tossing and turning and sometimes sleeping. And between those 48 hours, there was no sign of Edward. Jared had traded out with another agent—Embry, I had heard Seth call him. Seth stayed though, and for that I felt grateful. Despite the fact that he spent most of his time outside watching the surrounding area, I was always happy to see his smiling face when he came in to grab some food or warm up from the chilly nights and check up on me.

As much as I wanted to, I could not seem to shut off my brain. I kept playing and re-playing the scene at Dr. G's apartment and the following events. It all seemed so surreal and I never would have believed it, had my arms not been covered in bandages and my life suddenly reduced to a safe-house.

And then there was Edward. I had tried so hard not to think about him, but how could I not? He was alive! Alive and healthy and a…killer—a hitman, I told myself. He had been a hitman since the day I first met him-he had been planning his first hit the day I had smiled at him in the hallway of Forks High. The day he had averted my eyes and kept walking.

That's why he acted the way he did, I realized, after waking up from a particularly fitful sleep. I stared up at the ceiling, my arms resting carefully at my sides, so as not to disturb the cuts. He had been so shut off from everyone around him, so careful not to make any friends. He had had an agenda and it had not been to make friends. Or to date. Or to fall in love?

But he let you in, Bella. He must have known it was a horrible idea, but he let you in as much as he could. And then he faked his own death. Because it was dangerous to remain Edward Masen? Dangerous to stay in Forks?

Those bruises and cuts, I would never forget them. Only days before the "accident" he had come to school looking absolutely defeated both physically and mentally. When he had given me some vague excuse as to what had happened, I remember feeling angry at him. I knew there was something in his past that had been dark, something he didn't want me to know. But to lie to me? I had been angry and hurt. But now-he'd said he had tried to get out…he had tried to stay. He fought for me, for us. But it hadn't been enough.

As much as I had wanted to throw my arms around him and never let go—I was angry. He had gone on with his life for five years without even contacting me. The reasonable part of me knew I shouldn't be angry…I should just be happy that he was alive. But the anger won every time and I had so many questions. I needed to see him.

I needed to feel that he was real. The ache inside me wouldn't go away and I needed to touch him again.

Clothes had been delivered to me via Seth and as I slipped out of bed, I decided to change and find some food. I opened the duffle beside the nightstand and almost shouted with a surprised happiness. On top of the pile was my favorite pair of worn jeans. I dug deeper to see familiar t-shirts and a blue hoodie given to me by Charlie last year. At the bottom were my beat up chucks and a small bathroom kit. And…Pride and Prejudice? There, right beneath my shoes, was a worn copy of my favorite book. But how…who…? I shrugged. Maybe it was the first book they saw and just shoved it in. A thought nagged at my mind, but I chose to ignore it, instead slipped on the jeans, a fitted navy v-neck shirt and my blue chucks. I then carried the kit and book to the bathroom and brushed my teeth for a good ten minutes, reveling for another moment at the freshness of my breath and the shininess of my teeth. It was amazing how much better a person could feel in favorite clothes and with minty fresh breath. And tomorrow, I would peel off all the gauze and bandages and attempt the shower. I was looking forward to feeling clean again, but not to the pain I knew my cut-up arms would go through.

As usual when I stepped into the living room, it was quiet and empty. Seth and the other agent were probably doing their rounds. I wasn't sure exactly what that meant, but they were out there constantly, watching, waiting. I shivered. Waiting for what or who, I didn't know and I hoped to never find out. I made my way quietly into the kitchen, found a can of chili, opened it, and dumped it into a ceramic bowl retrieved from the cherry cabinets. I lifted myself up onto the dark granite counter-top to watch the bowl rotate in the microwave, my feet swinging impatiently. I hadn't eaten for days. My stomach was hating me.

When the time beeped, I extracted the bowl from the microwave and brought it out into the living room, curling up on the couch to eat. I half hoped Seth would come in so I could ignore my own thoughts for awhile and erase the unnatural silence of the cabin. Used to the constant noise of the city, it was a bit unnerving to be wrapped in such an endless silence.

Again, my mind returned to Edward. I wondered what he was doing—if he was tracking down the men who had run me off the road. Or was he somewhere else entirely, getting in trouble from his people. My heart pulled suddenly, wondering why he hadn't just left after he shot Dr. G. He could have escaped and then none of this would have been his problem. I would have called the police, but he apparently was the police and so it wouldn't have mattered. Would those men still have found me? Would they have tried to kill me later? They knew where I lived, after all. But what the hell did they want with me? And god, Dr. G. Edward had said—he'd said that Dr. G had killed two girls…had been involved in a drug operation? How could that be—he was Dr. G; funny, charming, smart. And now, dead.

A deep shudder ran threw me and I pushed the bowl of chili away, my appetite ruined. I would need time to digest that, but for now, I wanted nothing more than to ignore it. Just as I grabbed my book, planning on delving in to my favorite dog-eared sections, the lights flickered and I heard thunder rumble angrily in the distance. Heavy drops of rain started to hit the roof of the cabin rhythmically.

Dear stupid, wet, Washington. I hate you.

The lights flickered again and I stood up to find a flashlight. It seemed a power outage was inevitable. I rummaged through the kitchen drawers, finally finding a wimpy little flashlight near the back. Shouldn't a safe-house be chalk full of nifty high-powered flashlights? I made a mental note to ask Seth if he had an extra when he stopped in—which, if the lights went out, would probably be soon.

The lights flickered again as I made my way back to the living room and this time they didn't come back on. I sighed and settled on the couch in the dark, my heartbeat quickening instinctively. The last time the power went out, I found myself in a room with a dead man and a ghost. I hoped not to repeat that particular experience.

I heard a noise coming from the kitchen and I held my breath, straining to hear, my pulse pounding in my ears. I switched off my wimpy light and ducked low on the couch, my eyes on the opening to the kitchen. I would see whoever it was first. I glanced at the wall across from me, where the TV hung. Beside the TV, hung a painting of a long dark road surrounded by tall thick trees. I could make it. I could run right now, get threw that tunnel and find somewhere safe.

This was supposed to fucking be safe. And yet…

My eyes still trained on the doorway, I clutched my flashlight close.

And then, a tapping. But this time it wasn't from the kitchen, no, it was coming from the front door only feet away from where I shook.

Tap, tap, tap. Seth? Maybe when the lights went out, the doors automatically barred or something hi-tech like that—I was grasping desperately at remaining reasonable.

Shaking, I stood but remained low. Was I just being paranoid? I took a step towards the door and paused.

The dead-bolt was securely in place and I sighed slightly.

"Bella! Bella! Run, Bella!" yelled a voice from outside. Seth. His words didn't register properly and when I clicked open the deadbolt; I was greeted by a hard shove backwards.

"The passage, go, go!" his urgency scared me and as I caught my balance, I took one look at his face before lunging for the picture frame and hitting the button. Seth had turned his dripping frame towards the front door, his gun aimed and ready to fire.

The panel swung open and I bent slightly to enter the dark, cool passage. Turning, I watched as Seth backed towards me, his gun still aimed.

"Bella, go!" His voice was strained, like he was speaking through clenched teeth. "All the way, run as fast as you can to the end of the passage. When you get out into the woods, hide. Edward is on his way. He will find you."

Swallowing back a terrified sob, I turned at exactly the same time the shooting began, plunging into a darkness I had never known.

Edward, Tuesday, early morning

Because I didn't know where else to start, I went to Bella's apartment. As I unlocked her apartment door using the key provided for me by Jonze, I found it oddly disturbing to be invading her personal space without her permission-which was completely hypocritical of me, as I'd been doing exactly that for the last five years. But never had I stepped foot into her home.

Even completely trashed, the small space spoke volumes about Bella. The most distressing part? It spoke volumes that I had never known were written—the framed pictures of people I didn't recognize, the movies I didn't know she liked, the CD's scattered about containing names I'd never pegged Bella for liking, let alone purchasing.

You thought you knew her. You thought you knew every detail about her. You thought watching her from a distance, taking pictures of her, knowing her schedule meant you knew this Bella Swan. You were so very wrong.

I had to shake my head to clear out my astonishment and save dealing with those poisonous thoughts for later. The task at hand was much more important at the moment, and I pushed the sting of realization back. These men- they'd been looking for something and I had to know what it was. What could they possibly want from Bella?

Only hours ago at the district office, a team had been put together and briefed on the current circumstances surrounding Gleason. Jonze had divulged as little as possible to his men, but they knew something serious was up and they knew it involved me. I had ignored their looks as the man we rarely saw and even more rarely spoke to beckoned me to his swanky corner office.

Huge and intimating, always in a Gucci suit and gold watch just about summed up The Boss. He offered me a scotch and when I refused, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. Grudging respect? Pity? Disdain? I didn't know. He was impossible to read and it freaked the shit out of me.

"Decoy. I understand you knew this girl in another life."

"Yes," I answered, my leg jiggling uncontrollably. I couldn't help it; I was anxious to start investigating and even more anxious to see Bella. But I knew they wouldn't let me near her until I'd earned it. Earned something. I wasn't even sure which safe-house they'd brought her too. I was not getting any information until I gave some.

"Yes. My first life. Met her after my first job," I answered honestly, but without detail. In our field, we talked in lives, as many of us had led more than one. Some, I knew, had led more many more than two. The possibility that I could one day be one of those men frightened me.

Who are we? We're nobody.

"And you were…involved?"

"Yes. For a short period of time. She thought I was dead. Today, I revealed myself to her. Told her who I am."

"Yes, but did you tell her what you are?" he sneered slightly on the "what" and sipped at his scotch, his eyes bitter.

I remained silent. I wasn't sure if I was supposed to answer that one.

"I don't care why you did it, Decoy. I don't even care that you fucked this job up. What I care about is one of my best men broke almost every code we live by. What I care about is deciding what to do about this."

"Sir. I'm going to tell you what I want and you can tell me if it's possible, given what I've done," I paused. I was taking a risk talking to The Boss like this, but I realized I just had to lay it out for him. If he decided not to be agreeable, I would have to do it myself. There were no other options, not if I was going to save Bella. "I want to find the men who are looking for Bella. I want to kill them. I want Bella to be able to walk away from this without getting sucked in. And after all that is done, I want out."

I tried not to hold my breath. I painted confidence on my face and felt a steely determination take residence in my eyes. I'd just asked a lot, but by the look on his face, he wasn't a bit surprised by my request. He swirled his drink thoughtfully, ice clanking in his glass, his eyes distant.

"Did you know I knew your parents, Edward?"

What?

"What? N-no, sir. I didn't know that. How…where?" I couldn't seem to finish my thoughts as I stared at the hulking man in shock, my confident mask slipping away. This was not where I had thought the conversation would go.

"They were good people, they were. Last ones to deserve what happened to them. You think they'd be proud of you?" his vacant stare suddenly turned intense as he threw the question at me.

I broke eye contact quickly and hung my head, biting the inside of my cheek.

"No," I replied with a quiet honestly. The question hurt, but the answer hurt more. I'd been asking myself that exact question for years and always came to the same conclusion: there was no way they could be proud of what I had become.

Silence blanketed the room and I looked back up, my eyes steady again. The Boss's eyes had gone back to vacant and far-away.

"She'll be safe. She's already been sucked in, Decoy, you know that. But we will keep her as safe as we can from all of this," The Boss swept his hand around the room absently. "We will find those men and you will kill them," I nodded. But it was the last part of my request that I was waiting to hear answered.

"Walking away, walking away for good, Decoy-it's not that easy."

It wasn't a yes. But it wasn't a no either and as we lapsed back into silence, I knew better than to ruin the moment.

Back in Bella's apartment, I allowed myself a small feeling of hope—it depended on a lot, but for the moment, I would keep that hope tucked away. After searching the apartment thoroughly, I knew there wasn't a shred of evidence left behind. They were good. Whoever they were, they knew the ropes. I turned to leave when a sudden thought occurred to me. Bella would want her own things, her own clothes. I found a small duffle in a closet and gathered a few items I knew she wore often; a pair of faded jeans she was always in, a sweatshirt I knew she must love. Her chucks, which I knew she wore religiously, and a few other shirts. Her toothbrush and a brush. Underwear—I had to force myself through that drawer quickly and not stop to gape at the black, lacey…no, moving on. Deep, calming breaths. What else would a girl want? That was a stupid question; Bella was like no other girl I knew. What else would Bella want? I stood still for a moment, surrounded by her possessions and feeling helpless.

You don't know her anymore whispered my mind.

I shook that thought away and approached the area of the carpet were the intruders had emptied her bookshelf. Quickly, I plucked Pride and Prejudice from the floor and stuffed it in the bottom of the duffle bag. She had loved it in high school, I knew. She would read it over and over, smiling at her favorite passages.

"Why do you even bother reading it anymore?" I had asked one lazy day as we lounged contentedly at the beach, Bella reading her book as I threw rocks out into the ocean. "Don't you have it memorized yet?"

"My memory never does it justice," she had replied, smiling up at me as I'd trailed my fingers lightly down her bare shoulders.

We had almost forgotten the book on the beach that day, as our hands took on minds of their own, wandering over salty skin as we discovered the beginning of endless summer days. I wondered vaguely, as I pulled myself painfully from that particular reverie, if the copy I'd just packed away was the same one from that day.

Zipping the bag shut, I strode to the door and let myself out, swinging the bag onto my shoulder. I handed the bag off to a nearby agent, Embry, who I knew was heading to the safe-house later. I wished like hell it was me going, but I was with Jonze and the team, searching as quickly as possible to figure out where these men were, who they were. Every minute would count.

It'll give her time to think. Time to digest everything. Time to make some realizations?

Back in my Volvo, my phone started buzzing.

"Jasper," I stated quickly.

"E. They've got her at the proto-house, the one down the coast. Agent Clearwater is on full duty out there, with other agents trading off."

"Thank you." I let out a small breath. The Boss wasn't lying-they really wanted her kept safe, if they were using the prototype safe-house. The place was hard to find, hard to get into, and was full of state of the art technology. And they had Clearwater on constant duty. He was the best at what he did. I hesitated. "How's Alice?"

"Freaked out. She doesn't believe a thing they told her and she's been having bad dreams. She's worried. I'm worried. I've got to just tell her the truth, E, or I'll lose her. It'll come out. We both know it will come out. And I can't lose her."

I nodded silently.

"If I'd known…if I'd ever even thought you and Bella's best friend…I've fucked up a lot, Jasper."

"So have I, E. You know that. I'm going to tell her and that means everything. I'll have to tell her about Bella. You."

I nodded again. "Okay."

"No fight?" he asked, sounding slightly surprised.

"A relationship based on lies doesn't work. It can't. Tell her, Jasper. And then keep her safe, because by telling her, you're putting her in danger. Make sure to reassure her that Bella is safe."

Silence.

"Thanks, E. Call me if you need anything else. Anything, my man."

What I didn't hear, I would never know. I would never know how the conversation went, or how the decision was made. I would never know why he had thought it a good idea or how much they were willing to pay him. I wouldn't even know—suspect-any of it until later. All I would know from that night was what Seth Clearwater told me Wednesday night-his usual light, playful tones gone, in place a terrifying seriousness that I'd not heard from the young agent before.

I had been back at Gleason's apartment, painstakingly going through every folder, every scrap of paper I could find. My eyes were burning from lack of sleep and as I slugged back the last swallow of coffee from a Styrofoam cup, my cell phone began buzzing.

"Decoy," I answered, my eyes skimming a new document quickly.

"Decoy? Decoy? They're here, they've shot Embry; they're on the way to the cabin…five of them, Decoy. How did they—fuck. They're close and Bella's inside." The quiet tone of his voice led me to believe he was outside, tracking.

"Protect her, Seth, get inside. Protect her. I'm on my way." I raced down to street level and was in the Volvo in a matter of seconds.

"Power's out. Hurry." Seth's last words echoed in my head.

Fuck.

Heart in throat, I calculated my time. One-hundred and fifteen minutes…plus another thirty to trek to the safe-house through the woods. I wouldn't make it there…I couldn't make it there in time to count. They cut the power. They knew. How the hell did they know?

My foot heavy on the gas pedal, I proceeded to break one of my least favorite laws.

The underground passage, I realized. Seth against five unknowns? They would be forced to take the passage-I realized this with a jolt…that took off at least forty minutes of my commute.

I dialed Seth's cell number as my speedometer crept up past 160, slowing only slightly to take the bends of the heavily forested road.

No answer.

I stopped slowing at the bends in the road and instead increased my sped, pine trees blurring past me.

I could make it to the opening of the passage, it would be tight, but I could make it there in almost as much time as it would take Seth and Bella to run the passage.

But would it be enough?

A/N: A bit of a transition chapter and yet I still manage a bit of a cliffhanger. Chapter 10 will see so much more BxE interaction and a game or two of twenty questions. I'm heading on vacation next week, and I hope to get the next chapter up before I go...but it's still rough, so we'll see!

Awesome news! This story has been nominated for two Indie TwiFic Awards! Yes, one of you amazingly sweet people nominated me (thank you, whoever you are!)and I am beyond flattered...what a great feeling. This story is up for Most Original Storyline AND Best Alternate Universe Human. Additionally, my first story, Sleeping to Dream, was also nominated (for Best Alternate Universe Complete-if you haven't read it, go check it out!). Please, if you guys think either of these stories are worthy, I would love to somehow bribe you to head over to theindietwificawards (dot) com and vote for 'em! I believe voting starts tomorrow.

In the end though, what would make me happiest is if you just take a second to write me a comment. I love hearing from you guys-makes my day/week/month!