So. This used to be one of my stories way back before A Question Of Friendship and I had no idea where I was going with it. Since then I've had some ideas so I'm gona bring it back. If it's popular I'll carry it on. So if you like it review and let me know!

Disclaimer: Me no own Twilight

The safe house Chapter 1

I should have known something was afoot when I walked in the door. One of the wine glass Charles and I had shared the previous night lay on the floor at my feet when I opened the door to the Penthouse suite. The wine stained the sand coloured carpet a deep red and seemed to make a steam. I took a tentative step into the room eyes darting around for any danger lurking but found nothing.
'Charles?' I called out to no reply. Frowning I took a blind step forward only to feel the glass of the second wine glass shatter beneath me. Looking down I noticed half of a bullet hole in the glass. A little more than panic stricken I raced to master bedroom in search of him. In the profession of espionage you are never safe, always surround by others yet at the same time alone except for those like us who are together thanks to our profession.

As I entered the bedroom I heard the familiar sound of running water and Charles grunting in pain?
'Charles are you alright?' I asked hobbling into the bathroom as I pulled off my shoes throwing them onto the counter. A hand pulled the curtain back revealing him to me; he had a small bullet wound on his left shoulder. Obviously the glass had taken the majority of the speed 'Oh Charles what happened?' I asked pulling out the first aid kit from the cabinet and retrieving the needle thread and antiseptic.
'Gun man was on the balcony. Shot and left quickly didn't even aim.' He snorted 'Don't even train henchmen these days..'
Chuckling, I stitched up the wound 'Good as new.' I soon found myself pinned against the shower wall Charles's busy lips moving against mine furiously as ever as our hands began their usual groping rituals.

I closed the book quickly; ick mom...just ick. Before her death – in a car accident with my father - when I was six she had apparently wrote a few raunchy spy novels, the main characters being her and my father. I read them as a child and never really understood but now I do...just ick.
'What're you gonna do with 'em?' Phil, my uncle on my dad's side who'd practically raised me, asked while passing me another box of her stuff. I'd been living back in our old house a few weeks and ever since we'd been packing all my parent's unwanted or unneeded stuff to give to charities. So far I'd only kept these books and a few pictures and jewellery.
'I'm not sure. Maybe I could get them published..' I mused. Although the idea of publishing my mother's personal raunchy books was not the nicest of thoughts it would be unfair not to since she obviously worked hard on them.
'Under your own name?' He asked me as he routed through a bag of old Christmas cards some from before I was born.
I pulled an un-lady like face as he called it when I was a child 'Hell no! If someone from work' my job is a Chef at an Italian restaurant 'read it they'd think I was writing about my parents. Bad mental images.' I groaned shaking them from my head. I don't know much about my parents other than the fact they died sixteen years ago when I was six. Sure I have pictures and Uncle Phil to explain but that doesn't really tell you much but hey, I guess you can't miss what you never really had can you?
'Uh no.' He said quickly 'I don't think your mom would want them published.' He took the box with them and put them on the top shelf 'Never mind.' I blinked at him a few time and shook my head; sometimes he can be so random.

I continued to look through her stuff for a while before the door bell went.
'Bella,' Uncle Phil groaned loudly 'Jacob is here.' Jacob is my boyfriend from work that for some reason Phil hates more than adds on TV during Football matches and that is saying something. It's not like Jake's done anything Phil just has a Vendetta against him; men.
I almost skipped over to the door grinning happily; it was our nine month anniversary and my heart was beating frantically. I was already wearing his presents if you get my meaning. However before I got to the handle all hell broke loose...

The door flew wide open smashing against the picture of my parents wedding day, almost breaking off its hinges by the sheer force of the push. I was pushed to the floor hard enough to make me slide across the polished wood and into the dining room but not enough to give me more than a bruise on my ass. Gun shots were fired, four to be exact, one hit yet another picture, this one of my graduation, before Jake hissed loudly in pain. My uncle Phil stood shooting in that direction but as more shots sounded outside I was not sure who he was shooting at. I went to scream for Jacob but a hand clamped round my mouth and another round my stomach pinning my arms to my side as the same someone wrenched me backwards and pulled me from the house. Whoever this was I found myself unable to move not even struggle. This person, whoever they were, was unbelievably strong and muscled. They easily dragged me through the kitchen and back door before throwing me into the back of a black Hummer.

Three other people, including my captor, occupied the vehicle dressing in black with the classic balaclava concealing all but their eyes and mouths and a gun each to accompany them. None of them spoke or even looked at me as the driver hit the pedal and we sped off. For once in my life I was scared shitless so much that I couldn't do anything; not even sob. Please, I prayed, please don't let them hurt me...