Married to the Mob: Fighting for Freedom

Chapter Seven

 

As always, none of this is mine. This belongs to Stephenie Meyer. I just like to dabble in the playground she created.

Anyway, we're going to have baby's first Christmas, Edward's conversation with Carlisle, Bella talking to her husband about what happened with Amun and Charlie's christening in the next chapter.

Chapter Seven

Bella

"Dolce, wake up," said the quiet voice of my husband.

"Later," I mumbled, rolling over on the couch. "Sleepy."

"You need to come to bed, Bella," he whispered. "You cannot be comfortable on the couch." I grumbled and I felt myself being picked up. I leaned my cheek against Edward's shoulder.

"What time is it?" I asked, inhaling deeply and smelling his cologne. "Did you shower?"

"It's a little after four in the morning and I showered, cara," he said, walking up the stairs and making our way to the bedroom. He gently lay me on the bed, brushing my hair away. He quickly removed his hands. "Go back to sleep, Bella."

"Charlie ..." I whispered.

"I've got him," he murmured, pressing his lips to my forehead. I opened my eyes, seeing the troubled expression of my husband. I took his hand and sat up. "What, Bella?"

"Talk to me, Edward," I said, yawning. "Your eyes look haunted, baby."

"I'm okay. I just need to make sure that you and Charlie are alright, safe," he explained.

"This is more than just your obsessive need to keep us protected, Edward," I argued, tracing underneath his tired eyes. I moved my hand up through his hair and back down his jaw. He leaned into my hand. Turning his head, he gently kissed my palm. "Edward?"

"It was difficult being away from you today," he whispered. He cupped my cheek and pressed his forehead to mine. "I need to talk to my father ..."

"Can't I help you?" I asked, massaging his neck. "You can talk to me about anything, Edward."

"Not about this. Not yet," he sighed, crawling over me and kicking off his shoes. He put his head on his pillow, tugging me to his side. His hold on me was tight. "Once I wrap my head around what's going on and coming to grips with my emotions, I'll talk to you."

"Are you certain I can't help you?" I murmured, snuggling against his body. He looked down at me, his eyes still haunted. "I don't like this look, baby."

"I need to talk to my father," he grumbled, cupping my chin and pressing his lips to mine. His kiss was powerful, almost painful and needy. He sighed against my mouth, sliding his arms around me. "I love you, dolce."

"I love you, too, Edward," I whispered against his neck. He suctioned himself to me like a limpet. I eagerly accepted his embrace and tenderly scratched his head. He sighed, his body relaxing. Within a few moments, he was snoring quietly and dead to the world.

I never fell back asleep. I stayed with Edward until Charlie started fussing and my boobs felt like they were going to explode. I wriggled out of Edward's grasp and I went to the nursery. I picked up Charlie, changing him and carrying him to the rocking chair. I removed my shirt and held him to my breast. He latched on, looking up at me as I fed him. I could see so much of my husband in him. Charlie's hair was a deep bronze, with red highlights. His eyes were still muddy, but I could see the barest of green, gold and a touch of brown. I gently caressed his cheek. "Daddy's going through something, little one. We need to try and help through it. Can you help Mommy?"