I know my last story was depressing…here's my apology.

Disclaimer: I own Twilight. Gasp! No, guys, I was kidding! There's no need to bring the Feds into it! And that's not a real Taser…is it?

Look, I'll say it for the camera.

I don't own Twilight.

Bella's POV:

"I hate to leave," Edward said, rubbing my cheek with the back of his hand.

Ever since the incident in Italy, we'd all been clingy. But they had to hunt.

"I'll be fine, I have the best babysitter in the world," I teased him, when all I really wanted to do was jump into his arms and beg him not to leave me.

But his eyes were black with thirst, and painful smudges were beginning form under them. I loved him too much to make him suffer needlessly.

"We'll be fine, Edward," Carlisle spoke up from behind me, placing his hands on my shoulders. "Now go, you need to hunt."
"Three days," he said, planting a kiss on my cheek gently. "You can stay out of trouble that long, right love?"

I tried to act offended, but the truth was the panic was rising already. "Sure," I said. "Goodbye, Edward."

"See you soon, love," he said, walking backwards towards his Volvo.

"C'mon, man, the grizzlies are calling my name!" Emmett hollered. Reluctantly Edward turned and joined his family, and just like that, they were gone.

I turned into my father's arms and hugged him, fighting back the feelings of abandonment. They're not going to leave, they're not going to leave, I chanted to myself over and over.

Carlisle hugged me tightly. "Come on, I'm going to get into something more comfortable, then we'll go do your errands in town – if you don't mind being seen with an old man," he winked.

The statement was so ridiculous I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, it's gross. I'll completely ruin my reputation."

He laughed and ruffled my hair, despite my attempts to duck his hand. "And here I thought only Emmett was immature enough to do that," I complained.

He only smirked at me before heading upstairs to change.

I ran a brush through my hair and grabbed my purse. Carlisle must have been using human speed to give me time to get ready, because I was finished by the time he came back down. "Getting slow in your old age?" I couldn't resist teasing him, as he appeared at the top of the stairs.

Just like that he was at the door, holding it open politely. "Not so you'd notice," he said cheerfully.

I rolled my eyes. "Show-off," I muttered.

As we walked to the Mercedes, I looked over and realized he was in jeans and a plain baby blue t-shirt. And my dignified doctor father was wearing…sneakers!

"What?" he asked, noticing my stare.

I blushed. "Sorry. I just don't think I've ever seen you so…casual before."

"Just because I'm old doesn't mean I'm stuffy," he winked, climbing in himself.

I snickered. "As you could ever be old, Carlisle."

He backed out of the garage without even looking, a fact that never ceased to amaze me.

As he started down the winding driveway, he asked, "Where do you need to go first?"

"The bank," I replied, "and then I need to make a quick grocery run. When Charlie gets back from fishing with Billy, I'm going to need more fish fry and oil. Might as well get it now."

"Get anything you want to eat while you're here, too," he suggested.

"I'm sure the pantry's full, thanks to Alice," I said.

"No doubt," he conceded. "Anywhere else?"

"The post office, and that's it."

"How about we rent a movie?" he suggested. "I haven't seen the new Nicholas Cage yet."
"You like Nicholas Cage?" I asked, one eyebrow raised. He shrugged. "You hang around Jasper and Emmett long enough, and they start getting to you," he said.

Scary…at least he wasn't hooked on zombie movies.

"Sounds good," I told him, as we pulled up to the bank.

I gave him a look as he helped me out rather than staying in the car. "Edward's orders," he said, holding his hands up. "I'm not to let you out of my sight. That's a direct quote."

I shrugged, starting up the walk. He slipped his arm around my shoulders as we walked, and I had to admit it felt good to be cared for.

It was unusually quiet in the bank. Usually it was hopping on a Saturday, as people deposited their paychecks. But there weren't many people inside – just the two tellers and one lone man standing near the window, his back to us.

The door swung shut behind us, and I walked up to the teller window. "Hi, Mary Anne, I have my check."

She gave me a tight smile but didn't say anything. That was odd…I noticed her hands shook visibly as she reached for the check I handed her.

Carlisle noticed too. His grip tightened around my shoulders. Mary Anne's eyes met mine, and the realization that something was terribly wrong hit me in the stomach like a rock.

Her eyes shifted towards the man near the window.

In a barely perceptible movement, Carlisle eased me behind him, using his own body as a shield as the man turned around.

He was middle-aged, with a shadow of a gray mustache covering his upper lip. His gray-brown hair was receding, and his chillingly blue eyes were narrow and close-set.

All these insignificant details passed through my mind quickly just before the most important one lodged into my brain.

He was holding a gun.