A/N: I don't own Twilight.

Hey everyone, I'm here with a brand new story. I should be updating pretty regularly, hopefully every couple of days if I can. I've rated this story T but there will be some minor language and violence. Be warned.

Here is a short summary:

"In front of me stood a cop with a gun in his hand. I didn't hesitate. I shot him." Bella Swan is on the run from the LA police, but when she meets charming pilot Edward Masen in Thailand she is torn. Can she really be with Edward when she's wanted for murder? AH

Prologue

I stood watching the murky yellow water swirl down the drain to an unknown place. It seemed like an easy way to escape… just whirl away and be free. I should be so lucky.

I wrinkled my nose at the revolting smell of the blonde hair dye as I was greeted with my natural hair: brown. Sadly that couldn't last for long. I quickly hopped out of the shower and massaged my hair with red hair-dye trying not to miss a spot. As it soaked in I looked out the window of my friend Angela's house. She really was a blessing for letting me stay with her, even though I was wanted by every policeman in LA.

The view from her house was stunning. She lived in Beverly Hills looking over Hollywood with downtown LA in the background. To the left of me I could even see the Hollywood sign. Angela was a friend from school, she was loyal so I knew she'd let me stay here, even though I was now twenty-five and hadn't seen her for years. She'd done well for herself by getting a good job and marrying rich. She lived the life of luxury. Unlike myself.

But hopefully today that would all change.

Once the dye had soaked in I rinsed my hair and now had fiery red locks.

Well that's new.

I quickly blow dried my hair straight and dressed in some tight skinny jeans, a blue blouse and put on some sneakers. Something told me I'd need some shoes I could run in. Today was the day I would hopefully get away from this place. Away from the memories of what I'd done and most importantly away from the LAPD trying to arrest me all the God damn time.

I went downstairs to the living room to get going. I ignored the newspaper on the coffee table with the headline of 'girl who torches house is on the run' as I finished packing my bag. Suddenly there was a brisk knock on the door.

I froze.

They knocked again.

"Miss Swan," a familiar voice yelled, "I know you're in there. Let's try and be civil about this, just come out and talk."

They'd found me.

Talk? Seriously? And give them the ammunition to lock me up for life.

No way.

I quickly picked up my messenger bag. This bag would be my lifeline and would hopefully get me through this safely. I quickly checked inside to see the three different passports, all with my picture, the stacks of cash and most importantly, a gun. I took it out and removed the safety, ready to fire if necessary.

I wasn't shooting to kill anyone but just to get my sorry ass safely out of this country.

I ran to the back door and discretely peered out the window. I saw a slight movement in the trees alerting me instantly to the fact that there was someone there. Anyone without my experience may not have noticed this. But I did. And it helped me a hell of a lot.

Angela had a side door, which was one of my reasons for choosing to stay with her. Once I reached the door, keeping my gun ready, I opened it. Slowly.

It was now or never.

The side fence, probably my only chance of escape, was about ten paces ahead of me. If I ran and jumped high enough I could probably make it over the sturdy wooden fence. If I was lucky.

I peered around quickly, keeping my gun ready.

One.

Two.

Three.

I made a run for it.

I sprinted as fast as my legs could carry me towards the fence, my trusty bag safely with me. I heard voices around me. Then shouts. They'd seen me.

I was almost there and then: crash. I didn't make it over.

Shit.

I turned ready to go out the back gate, my only other option, but directly in front of me stood a cop with a gun in his hand. I didn't hesitate. I shot him. I didn't shoot to kill, never to kill. But I shot both his hand, to disarm him, and his leg to stop him from chasing me.

Three years at the policing academy meant I had a pretty good aim.

Thank God.

I leapt over him as he fell to the ground in pain and the back gate was in my sights.

"I have a gun pointed at your head," a loud voice boomed behind me, "so stop right there Isabella."

I stopped.

Was this it? After four months had they finally caught me? Four months of me getting my hands on fake passports, booking flight tickets and finding the perfect places to escape to. Was this it?

"Turn around," the voice commanded, "slowly."

I did what was asked of me and turned to see Jacob Black with his gun pointed directly at my head. He stood there in a dark black suit, obviously trying to show his authority, with a big smirk plastered on his face. Jacob and I had gone to training school together to become part of the Police force. He'd had a crush on me but I'd turned him down. Lots of times. So guess how happy he was five years later when he was head of his department and his assignment was to bring me in? Yes, he was ecstatic.

He was alone except for the officer who I had already shot and was on the ground trying to sort out the wound on his leg. Trust Jacob to be too arrogant to get extra back-up. Big mistake.

I might be able to escape.

"Now drop your gun!"

I hesitated.

"Drop it!"

I bent down as if to put my gun on the ground as his eyes remained fixated on my every move. As if God was sending a miracle, at that moment the trees behind Jacob's head rustled.

That's all I needed. Him to be distracted for just a millisecond.

Before he could react I snatched my gun and shot him in his hand to disarm him. He cried out in pain as the gun skimmed his hand and pierced his arm.

I darted out of the yard and through the back gate. I jumped into the car I'd stashed there, put it in gear and raced away. I threw the gun out the window and weaved through Beverly Hills at almost 100mph with only one destination in mind.

LAX.

Thoughts? Reviews please.