Chapter 24
EPOV
"Baby," I squeeze, tight … so fucking tight, "Ryan doesn't have a tattoo."
Holy motherfucking shit.
For the briefest of moments, or maybe it's minutes … hours, everything is bathed in red. I can't think. I can't see. I can't breathe. I can't really hear, but somewhere in the midst of the cacophony sounding in my brain, Bella's voice reaches me.
"Edward. Oh, God, breathe. Please, just breathe."
My chest constricts painfully, each breath I try to take requires more effort than should be necessary. Fingers clench, my head swims, and my lungs feel like I'm breathing fire laced with razor blades. I concentrate on my breathing, forcing each breath in and out until the red recedes and my vision clears.
I open my eyes. Bella looks terrified of course and my stomach twists at that.
Fuck.
As much as I want to press her nose into my shoulder and hold her close, I can't. Not yet. "Bella, everything. Tell me everything that happened."
"Edward, what's the matter? You're scaring me." Her hands reach out and she holds my head, her fingers ice cold. Her coffee-brown eyes are wide with fear and I can see her pulse beat wildly on her neck.
I take another deep breath and try to get control of my quickly escalating emotions. "Shh, baby, I'm sorry. But, tell me, please. All of it, start at the beginning and don't leave anything out."
I don't want to hear the words that are about to come out of her mouth … but I have to know.
"Okay, well, I was talking to Rose on the phone after you and Peyton left to go get ice cream," she begins and then goes on to tell me what transpired while I was gone. With each passing word I get more and more anxious and feel the dread creeping in. "I got a bad feeling, you know," she tells me and I squeeze my eyes shut and groan.
I don't want to yell at her, but Jesus Christ.
"Bella," I begin and she huffs.
"I know, Edward, all right? I knew the second I opened the door that I shouldn't have, but what was I supposed to do? Some guy shows up asking for you and it caught me by surprise. Then Brady got out, and when the guy started playing with him, I was stuck. Of course, when he told me his name was Ryan, I felt a bit like an idiot for being scared in the first place. Now you're telling me you don't think it was Ryan at all. What the hell is going on? If that wasn't Ryan, who was it? Who would know where you were, know about me … " And then she stops. She swallows convulsively and begins to shake violently in my arms. "Oh, God. Oh my God," she whispers over and over, sounding more frantic by the second.
"Bella, what? What? Tell me! You're shaking. What's wrong?" My voice rises and goosebumps break out all over my skin.
"The guy … whoever that was, he … he …" she stammers with as terrified a voice as I've ever heard anyone use. "He knew Peyton's name. He told me to take care of Peyton … and that …" She sobs now and I can't help but groan, because I don't want to know what the stranger said, but I know I have to hear it. I squeeze her and tip her head up so I can look at her.
"Tell me the rest," I implore.
Her eyes fill with tears and her breath catches in her throat before she forces out, "He said that you never know when something might happen."
One minute I'm on the bed and the next I'm up, pacing like a caged animal. "What the fuck? Jesus fucking Christ, what in the hell is going on? Who does that? What does that even mean?"
My voice escalates and I know it's bordering on yelling, but I can't help it. I know, with almost absolute certainty that whoever that man was … it wasn't Ryan. I haven't seen him since I left Boston but I know he doesn't have a tattoo. He would never get one; it's just not who he is. He's made enough comments about mine and about them in general for me to know he'd never mark his body in such a way.
I stomp to the nightstand beside my side of the bed and pick up my cell phone, muttering under my breath the whole time. I hit the speed dial and pull my hair with my free hand as I wait for the call to connect. When the person on the other end answers, I don't even bother with a hello. "Something's happened. I need you to come to Bella's. Bring Emmett."
I cut off Jasper's question and hit the next number. "Seth," I say immediately, "I need you and Xavier at Bella's right away." Again, I hang up without an explanation.
I yank on my jeans, and pull a t-shirt over my head, my mind racing at a million miles an hour as I try to make sense of what Bella's told me.
"Edward, what are you doing? Why did you call all the guys?" Bella asks. She's sitting up in bed with the blankets pulled up protectively around her body. She looks so tiny, afraid, and it breaks my heart.
It breaks even more when she says, "I didn't know it wasn't Ryan," and tears spill down her cheeks.
I crawl across the bed and crush her to my chest. Kissing the top of her head I tell her, "Of course you didn't. How could you? You've never seen him. I'll find out what's going on, don't worry. Nothing will happen to you or Peyton, I promise. No one will ever hurt either of you because of me." I squeeze her even tighter, fighting against the instinct to tell her this is all my fault … even if I have no fucking idea what's going on.
She shakes her head against my chest and her hands clutch at my t-shirt. I can feel her nails through the thin cotton and she wriggles and moves until she's in my lap. "Don't say that. This isn't your fault. We don't even know what any of this means."
I want to believe her, fuck do I want to believe her, but I know whatever this is … it's about me.
I reach for the phone I threw on the bed and bring up Ryan's number. Bella's calmed down some, but she continues to shake and her heart's still beating too damn fast … or maybe it's mine. After four rings, Ryan's voicemail picks up. "Ryan, it's Edward. I need to talk to you. Something's going on and I don't know what it is. Call me back as soon as you get this. It's important."
I huff in frustration. I scroll through my contacts and hit the next number. This time it's Wayne's voicemail. "It's Edward. I have a problem. Call me back."
I hear Jasper's loudass car pull in the driveway so I disentangle myself from Bella and stand up. She follows. I want to tell her to stay upstairs while I talk to the guys, but there's no way in hell she'll listen. I know my girl and I'd like to keep my balls, thank you very much. Not the best time in the world to let my mind stray to the gutter, but eh, I can't help it.
Anything, even if it's for only a few seconds, is better than thinking about what all this means. I need to call Charlie and Carlisle, I know I do, but not until I talk to the guys and not until I hear back from Ryan and Wayne. I need to get my shit together and make sure all my bases are covered, and that means making sure Bella and Peyton have what they need to be safe first and foremost before I do anything.
If anything happened to either one of them … I start to think, then force myself not to go any further. It's a moot point anyway, because I'd die before anyone hurt them. Or kill someone first. In a fucking heartbeat.
"Come on. Jasper and Emmett are here." I hold my hand out to her and grab a hoodie off the chair for her to put on since she's dressed for bed and is wearing a thin tank top and a pair of my boxers. I contemplate for about four seconds asking her to put on a pair of sweats but the beating on the door makes me hurry down the stairs instead.
"It's a good thing Sprite can sleep through a tornado," I mutter as I reach for the doorknob.
"What the hell is going on, Edward? Is Bella okay? Peyton?" Emmett fires off as he barrels through the front door.
Jasper walks in behind him and before I have time to close the door, Xavier's truck screeches to a halt behind Jasper's car. He and Seth run through the door and when I shut the door and turn around, Bella is between Emmett and Xavier, both of them looking ready to kill or attack or protect. It's just what I want. I'd like to tell myself I'm overreacting, but spending seven years in prison taught me to trust my gut, and right now my gut is screaming at me that something's coming … and it's not good.
"Edward, what the fuck?" Xavier asks, his voice steel-hard and his muscles flexing beneath his tight, long-sleeved t-shirt.
I push a hand back in my hair and with the other, pinch the bridge of my nose. I take a few moments to do some deep breathing exercises, gathering myself so that I can do what needs to be done.
"Someone was here at the house today, a strange man, when Peyton and I were in Ellsworth getting ice cream," I begin.
The four guys stare at me, like Sheldon looks at Penny on The Big Bang Theory. I sigh, deciding that they need more explanation.
"Okay, let's sit." I motion them toward the living room and pace while everyone makes themselves comfortable.
Bella's eyes never leave mine. The more I pace, the more worried she looks. Figuring that it's best just to dive in, I start. "I'm not sure what the fuck is going on. I've called Wayne and Ryan and neither one has called me back." I reach for my phone and grunt when still, there's no message, not even a text from either one of them.
"Dude, what the hell do Ryan and Wayne have to do with some asshole showing up at Bella's house?" Jasper asks, his exasperation filters through his words.
"Damn it! Will you just let me talk?" I practically holler. I turn around to face out the window and try to calm down.
I feel Bella's hand, and she wiggles her fingers until they slide between mine. She lays her forehead on my shoulder and whispers, "It's going to be all right, Edward."
I make some sort of sound, a cross between a grunt and a groan. She squeezes my hand, and looks up at me. "It will. Let's figure out what's going on before you go off half-cocked, okay? You have to calm down. You have to breathe, and you have to think before you act. I'm safe, Peyton's safe, and you're here."
I pull her in front of me and bury my nose in her hair, letting her familiar citrus scent work its usual magic. Slowly, my heart returns almost to normal and I feel like I can think … at least somewhat rationally. I run my fingers down the side of her face, taking care to make a special pass over the top of her ear. Feeling that little silver metal ball move beneath my thumb is like a talisman, reminding me in the surest of ways that she's here, that she's safe … that she's still mine.
"Sorry," I murmur and brush my lips across hers. It's not enough, it never is, but it'll do for now.
She leads me back to the others and pulls me down next to her on the sofa. Now that I don't feel like I'm being buried alive, I tell the guys everything, stopping often to let Bella fill in the blanks.
"Wait a God damned minute," Xavier booms and shoves himself up off the sofa. He stomps back and forth in front of us, muttering under his breath. About every third word I understand and it takes all I have not to fling myself at him and try to wrestle him to the ground to beat the shit out of him.
Try being the operative word.
"You mean to tell me …" He whips around and pins Bella with a glare so menacing she cringes beside me. "That you were foolish enough to not only open the door to a stranger, but hold a fucking conversation with him? That you went outside with him, without anyone around, without a way to call for help if you needed it? Jesus fucking Christ, Bella, what the hell were you thinking? I mean it's obvious you weren't thinking! I can't believe you'd do something so stupid not to mention dangerous!" he thunders.
Bella hiccups beside me, and I feel her shake as I wrap an arm around her.
Xavier scrubs his face with his hands, the muscles of his chest and arms bunched and rippled. He's still muttering, still cursing, and I know it all stems from a place of worry not to mention love, but still, it pisses me the fuck off. I move to stand but before I can, Emmett picks up where Xavier left off.
"Bella, how could you?" Emmett asks quietly, disappointment coloring his voice so plainly he might as well have screamed it. "What if Peyton would have been here? What would you have done then? Invited the guy in for milk and cookies? I wouldn't have ever believed you'd be so stupid."
And now, I've had enough.
Bella is outright sobbing next to me. Each tear is like a lance to my heart and I can't take any more.
"Knock it the fuck off, both of you," I say in a low, deep voice, one I haven't used since I'd been inside. I glare at both of them. I can feel my jaw clench, hear my teeth grind, and I stand up. I might not be the biggest guy in the world, but I can be damn intimidating when I want to be. Right now, I want to be. "If either one of you, ever, and I mean fucking ever, talk to Bella that way again, I promise you, it'll be the last words out of either of your mouths. Are we clear?" I hold their gazes, until they both are forced to look away. "Bella made a mistake, but you don't need to beat her over the head about it. And hell, she's never seen Ryan. How was she supposed to know it wasn't him? Besides, with all the people she sees and comes into contact with at the restaurant, she's used to seeing strangers." I sit back down and wrap an arm around Bella then turn to kiss the side of her head. "It's not your fault."
She furiously nods her head at me and when she opens her mouth to argue with me, I place my fingers over her lips. "It's not, Bella, not at all. You didn't know. No, you shouldn't have gone outside to talk to him, but once he said his name was Ryan, it makes sense you'd let your guard down a bit. At least you were smart enough to pay attention to the bad feeling the guy gave you. If anything, it's my fault. This obviously has something to do with me," I say, hating that all of this is because of me.
"Edward, no!" Bella sits up on her knees and throws herself into my arms. She cries softly as I hold her, the turmoil and the tension of the day finally taking its toll on her.
Jasper clears his throat as he watches us, standing in front of the fireplace. "Okay, I think everyone needs to calm down and take a step backward for a few minutes." He very pointedly looks between Emmett and Xavier before walking forward. Kneeling in front of Bella, he speaks gently. "Bell, Edward's right. Any one of us would have answered the door, even Ali and Rose would have. Now that we know there's some strange guy walking around Corea, we can all be looking out for him. I do think we need to get a better handle on what's going on though, Edward." He looks over to me and I nod.
I slip my phone out of my pocket and dial Ryan once more. "Voice mail," I say sharply and throw my phone on the coffee table in front of us.
"Edward, what do you think is going on?" Seth asks, speaking for the first time.
It's often easy to overlook Seth. He's hardly ever serious, always has a smile on his face, and never has a bad word to say about anyone, but the look on his face right now, as his eyes bore into Bella cowered against my side, lets me know in no uncertain terms he shouldn't be underestimated.
"I don't know, man. I mean no one knows where I am. I went to Wayne's straight out of prison, stayed there a week, then came here. It's not like I made any friends inside that would want to look me up. Sure, I pissed off more than a few guys, but I don't think enough for any of them to track me down." I shake my head, frustrated and with a gnawing, nervous feeling eating away at my insides.
Xavier begins to pace again, though this time looking less like a wild animal and more like a man, a friend, on a mission. "Well, it goes without saying that until we get some answers, neither Peyton nor Bella go anywhere alone. Same goes for you, Edward," he says, startling me with the level of protectiveness he speaks with … and the fact he's as worried about me as P and Bella. He scoffs and waves his hand in the air, blowing off my surprise like flicking lint off his shirt. "Whatever, dude. You're one of us, family, and we're not letting anything happen to any of you."
"I think you need to talk to Carlisle and Charlie," Seth states. When I look at him, he goes on. "You are planning on telling them what's going on, aren't you?"
I pinch the bridge of my nose, but nod my head. "Of course."
Suddenly I'm exhausted. It's after midnight so it's no wonder, but my whole body aches. I want nothing more than to crawl into bed with Bella and curl my body around hers. I want to fall asleep with my nose buried in her hair and my fingers touching her soft, warm skin. I want to tangle our legs together beneath the blankets and I want my semi-hard cock to find its favorite spot pressed up against her ass. I want to feel her breath on my arm as I hold her. I want to wake up in the morning and realize that all of this has just been a bad dream, caused by the extra scoop of mint chocolate chip ice cream I begged Peyton not to tell Bella I had.
I want to tell myself that all of this is just some wild misunderstanding, but I can't.
I have no idea what's going on, who showed up here today, but I'm damned sure going to find out.
Jasper claps his hands together and waits for all of us to look in his direction. "Well, we're not going to be able to decide anything until Edward talks to Wayne and Ryan. Xavier will be with Bella at The Breakers tomorrow and Peyton will be at school. Lucky for the rest of us, we still have a few days before we go back to work which should give us plenty of time to get a handle on the situation. I say we plan on meeting tomorrow after Edward's gotten some answers. Who knows," he says as he walks toward the front door, "maybe we're blowing this way out of proportion."
His last sentence falls flat. Not one person in the room believes him anymore than he, himself, does, but we all play along.
Xavier and Emmett both apologize to Bella, hugging her hard and long until they each give her a kiss and walk out of the door. Seth and Jasper follow, all of us promising to catch up with each other later in the morning and I close the door behind them.
Bella looks as exhausted as I feel. Her hair's a tangled mess, half in and out of her ponytail. Her eyes are puffy, the tip of her nose red, and her cheeks splotchy and tear-stained.
She's never been more gorgeous.
"I need you," I whisper fervently as I walk toward her. "I need to touch you, taste you … have you." I kiss her between each word. Her mouth, her neck, her shoulders, memorizing for the umpteenth time the way her skin feels against my lips, my tongue. I bend down, and lift her into my arms, holding her protectively against my body so I can carry her up the stairs. She wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her chest firmly, nipples already hardened peaks, enticingly against mine. Her hands are everywhere, in my hair, then squeezing my arms, until she dips one inside my jeans and the other beneath my t-shirt. My body's on fire and I hiss when the tips of her fingers graze the tip of my cock. I'm hot, hard, and so ready to rip her clothes off and sink into her sweet, tight heat. Once I have her naked and her body is bathed in shimmery, silvery moonlight, I sink. I don't stop until the pale lavender of early morning peeks from behind the blinds.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
"Peyton, you remember what I said, right?" I ask for the forty-seventh time between leaving Bella's and arriving at school.
She huffs but doesn't roll her eyes, sensing that this morning, the tension in the air can't be diffused with a sweet smile or her usual ramblings. "Yes. No walking home today and no leaving unless it's with someone on my ridiculously long list of approved people." She still doesn't roll her eyes, but with that comment, I can tell she so wants to. Instead she unhooks her seat belt and leans forward, poking her head between the seats. She looks back and forth at Bella and me a few times each before she says, "I know something's going on and I know it's bad. You're not sick or anything are you?" Her eyes begin to well with tears and I quickly put my arm around her.
"Of course not, sweetheart. Just do as we ask for today, okay? I promise we'll talk to you later." I look at Bella over Peyton's head. She's biting her bottom lip and I can see the indentations her teeth have made in the already tender skin. Her lip has taken a lot of abuse over the past few weeks. Thank God for strawberry Chapstick.
We each give Peyton a kiss and wait until she's safely inside before driving away. "We have to tell her something, Bella. She's way too smart to hide anything from her. She can tell there's something wrong, anyway."
"I know," is all Bella answers. She reaches out and waits for me to put my hand in hers. I give it to her willingly, always.
By the time I pull up in front of The Breakers, she still hasn't said a word, but I don't push. "You'll call me after you've talked to my dad and Carlisle?" The uncertainty in her voice kills me. I lean across the console and place my fingers beneath her chin, turning her head to face me.
"Of course I will. I'll be back here by lunch, okay?" I hold her head in place and press my lips against hers. "Try not to worry." She scrunches her nose and scoffs, tilting her eyes upward.
She reaches for the door handle but turns before she opens it. "Love you," she tells me, leaving me with one more strawberry-filled kiss before she hurries inside without looking back. I watch the door close behind her, relieved to leave her in Xavier's more than capable care, but worried as hell about talking to Carlisle and Charlie.
The short drive to Carlisle's is full of recriminations sprinkled with a healthy dose of fear. Fear of disappointing the two men I respect more than any other besides Wayne and my grandfather. Fear of Charlie for putting not only his daughter, but his granddaughter in danger … fear of the fact that my past has come back to threaten everything and everyone I hold dear.
When I get to the boarding house, Em's Jeep and Jasper's piece of shit car are both parked out front. I suppose I should've known they'd be here, but seeing their vehicles surprises me … and makes me feel pretty damn good to be honest. Knowing they have my back means more than I can tell them. One glance at Charlie's truck reminds me they might have their work cut out for them.
I smell the coffee as soon as I open the side door. It's so strange walking into the house that's supposed to be my home. I'll always be grateful to Carlisle and Esme for welcoming me and making me feel like a man instead of an ex-con, but the boarding house isn't my home any longer. My home is wherever Bella and Peyton are. I've known it for a while now. Staying with them while I recovered, being woken up in Bella's bed by Peyton Christmas morning, making love as the clock struck midnight on New Year's on the floor in front of the fireplace just cemented the fact.
Before all this shit happened it was something I'd wanted to talk to Bella about. Now that I'll be staying there until we figure out what's going on, that conversation is going to have to wait. I want to stay there, permanently, but I want it to be because she wants me there, not because I have to be there.
"Morning, sunshine," Seth crows from the kitchen table.
I roll my eyes at him. Why he has to be a smart ass ALL the time, I'll never know. I walk toward the coffee pot, nodding at Emmett and Jasper as I pass them. Once my coffee's fixed, I sit at the table where Carlisle and Charlie are both watching me with expectant, confused looks. I wilt a bit under their heavy gazes, hating that I'm going to disappoint them.
"So, thanks for coming by this morning, Charlie," I begin. I blow a breath across my coffee, watching as the liquid ripples in the mug. I'm trying to buy time, I know it, everyone in the room knows it, but luckily for me, no one calls me on it. After I take a sip and let the warm drink slide down my throat, I take a deep breath.
"There's been a development," I begin evasively.
Apparently, I'm not going to get another free pass because Seth snorts from across the table. He crosses his arms and quirks one eyebrow at me in challenge. Fuck, he's such a pain in my ass, damn it all.
"Okay, fine." I huff, glaring at Seth before I turn toward Charlie and Carlisle. I lay it all out and repeat the same story Bella and I told the guys last night. Neither one of them move while I speak, which only serves to make the knot in my stomach tighten with each passing word. By the time I finish, the knot's so tight that the coffee I've sipped on sits there, feeling more like rancid milk than the delicious coffee Esme always has ready.
"You still haven't been able to speak with Ryan or Wayne?" Carlisle asks. He's tapping furiously on his phone as he speaks, not looking up at all when I shake my head.
After a moment he looks up and I realize he didn't see me shake my head so I answer, "No. I've tried them both already a few times this morning, and nothing."
"And you're positive the man wasn't Ryan?" Charlie asks. I look him in the eye and don't see the disappointment I was sure I'd find, instead he looks … almost proud. That realization startles me and I choke on the bitter coffee.
"Not positive, but for one, I can't imagine Ryan ever having a tattoo, and for two, Corea's kind of in the middle of nowhere. I don't see Ryan stopping by just to chat … especially not without telling me first."
"Hmmm." It's all he says, but it's enough to keep me on the edge of my seat. My knee bounces beneath the table. I don't notice how hard or that I'm shaking the entire table until Jasper reaches over and slaps a hand on my leg to still it.
"You're freaking me the hell out with all this nervous energy. Knock it off. We'll figure this shit out and do what we need to do. Cool it," he hisses in my ear when he leans over.
Charlie chuckles softly and then takes a drink of his coffee, not saying a word.
"Okay," Carlisle speaks for the first time. "I've sent a message to Angie asking if she's heard from Wayne. I'm guessing Ryan's just out of town or something; maybe that's why you can't get in touch with him."
I sit back in my chair and look up at the ceiling. That same sense of dread creeps over me again and I blow out a huge puff of air. I run a hand through my hair, tugging on the ends. "I just want to know what the hell's going on. None of this makes any sense." I'm frustrated but more than that, I'm scared out of my fucking mind.
No one should know where I am besides Ryan and Wayne and the fact that someone does, that they actively sought me out, and knew to look at Bella's no less is what's really got me contemplating taking Bella and Peyton far the fuck away from here.
"Son, I'd hunt you down and bury your body where no one could find you if you even think about it," Charlie tells me as he stares at me over his cup. He slurps his coffee, and his mustache twitches. I see the corners of his mouth lift in a semblance of a smile.
"What?" I squeak, I can't help it.
He snickers. "Edward, I can hear the wheels turning from here. You're blaming yourself, aren't you?" He doesn't even wait for me to agree with him before he barrels forward. "Look, I'm not going to lie. This whole thing smells fishier than it does down on the docks, but it's not like we're helpless idiots here. And it's not like we're incapable of protecting Bella and Peyton … and you if it comes down to it, but it won't. I don't have the first damn clue who showed up at Bella's yesterday but I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation. I agree we should all be on our guard and keep an eye on the girls, but I don't think we need to have escape plans in place, or worry about running away." He gives me a pointed look and holds it until I have to look away, shamed that I thought for one second about that very thing.
"Point taken," I mumble, not looking up.
"Edward," he says, his voice full of nothing but calm and strength. He waits for me to look at him before he says, "I admire the fact that you're willing to do whatever needs to be done to protect Bella and Peyton, but let's take a little step back and get some answers before we do anything rash, okay? It hasn't even been a day since you haven't been able to get in touch with Ryan, and knowing Wayne, he's going to get the messages from you and Carlisle and call you both, laughing his ass off about you both worrying about him."
Carlisle grins at me and I can't help but laugh. "Wayne'll do exactly that. Jesus." I groan, feeling a bit better now that Charlie and Carlisle have both indicated that while weird, there doesn't seem to be any reason to expect anything dangerous.
I get up from the table and pour my now cold coffee down the drain. I watch as it swirls in the bottom of the sink, my mind still trying to make sense of everything. Every muscle in my body is fatigued, like I've worked my body to exhaustion. I roll my shoulders and neck, trying to ease some of the tension when Carlisle steps beside me.
"You okay?" he asks quietly so only I can hear him.
I look back over my shoulder making sure the others are all occupied elsewhere. "Not really, but there's not much I can do until I hear from Ryan. I just wish I knew what the fuck was going on," I say for what feels like the hundredth time.
"I know you do, Edward, but we'll figure it out. Do you have any idea who it was that showed up yesterday?"
I swallow thickly, trying to keep the name that's been floating around in my mind ever since Bella told me what happened, inside, afraid if I speak his name, he'll somehow manifest in person right in front of me. Carlisle must be able to see my fear; I imagine it's rather obvious and when he finally looks me in the eye, he sucks in a sharp breath as he silently connects all the dots.
"It can't be him, Edward. Remember what Wayne told you months ago. Aleksei has no idea where you are. There's no way he could track you down here, none. There has to be some other explanation," he mutters.
"I sure as hell hope you're right, Carlisle. Just the thought of Aleksei being alone with Bella is enough to make me sick, but imagining him knowing much less saying Peyton's name is enough to make me homicidal. It can't be him … it just can't." My heart hammers painfully against my chest and I have to remember to breathe when things get fuzzy for a moment.
"Come on," Carlisle says once he sees I'm back in control. "Let's sit. Maybe Ryan will call soon and all of this worrying will be for naught."
We chat for a while, talking about the upcoming football game this weekend. Emmett decides he'll pick Peyton up from school and take her to Ellsworth to get Brady a new toy … though I think that's more for his benefit than the puppy's. He's such a sucker. God help the man when he and Rose have a kid.
All through the conversation, I can't shake off the feeling that I'm missing something, I just can't figure out what it is.
~~~~OOO~~~~~OOO~~~~
Bella and I are cuddling on the couch when there's a knock at the door that evening, making us both jump out of our skins.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter heatedly as I stalk toward the door, my nerves as frayed as the end of a piece of worn yarn.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I open the door, surprised to find Carlisle standing there. "Hey, what brings you by … don't tell me, Esme's on a redecorating kick again, isn't she?" I tease. The smile on my face falls immediately as soon as I realize he's not laughing at me. In fact, he looks like he's barely holding himself together.
"Oh, shit. Carlisle, what's wrong? Are you okay?" I ask, throwing the door open wide and looking him over from head to foot.
Bella hops up off the couch and rushes to him. She wraps an arm around his waist and leads him into the house, looking every bit as confused as I do. She raises an eyebrow in question at me and all I can do is shrug my shoulders in response. Seeing Carlisle so unnerved has my stomach all twisted like a pretzel and a cold, eerie sense of dread follows him through the door. Whatever is going on with him … isn't good.
"Carlisle, come sit," Bella tells him softly as she leads him toward the couch. She guides him down on the cushions. He looks as if he's about to collapse and I can feel the panic start to bubble beneath the surface.
He's pale.
His eyes are rimmed in red.
His clothes are askew; his shirt is half tucked in and wrinkled and he's not wearing a coat, like he left in such a hurry, he didn't even have time to dress for the cold weather.
Again, my stomach churns and the aftertaste of the dinner we finished not long ago singes my throat.
He hangs his head, running his hands back and forth through his hair. In all the months I've known him, I've never once seen him with his fingers in his hair. The panic is at DEFCON One now and I curl my fingers into tight fists to keep from shaking him until he tells us what's the matter.
"Edward," he chokes, looking up at me. His eyes are glassy, unshed tears sit precariously on the rims of his eyes and when he clenches them tightly shut, a single drop from each eye falls down his cheeks.
Instantly, my heart breaks, though I don't know the cause, but seeing him in pain kills me.
He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to get control of himself. My knees give out and I fall down next to him on the sofa. I lift a trembling hand and put it on his knee.
"Tell me, please. It's not Esme is it?" I ask, her name stuttering out of my mouth. It's the only thing I can think of, that something's happened to Esme, that would cause him to look so distraught.
He shakes his head and I let out a breath of air, though the knot in my chest doesn't loosen in the slightest. Something has deeply upset him.
"I got a phone call about an hour ago," he begins, his voice hoarse and uneven. "It was from Boston." His voice drops to a whisper. The mention of the city that holds so many conflicting memories from me sends a sharp, piercing pain to my heart. "Oh, God." He moans and hangs his head again.
I move my hand from his knee to his arm and grip it tightly. "Carlisle, you're scaring the fuck out of me. Tell me what's going on," I demand harshly, panicked beyond belief.
"It's Wayne," he sobs.
I suck in a sharp breath. Every nerve ending in my body ignites, sending sharp, stinging points of fire all over. I sway, my vision blurs, and my heart thunders in my chest.
"What do you mean it's Wayne? What's Wayne? Has he been in an accident? Is he okay? Where is he?" I frantically ask, up on my feet and standing in front of Carlisle without even realizing my body has moved.
He shakes his head at me. I see him swallow. Once. Then again. And again. All the while he looks from me to Bella as if trying to communicate without saying anything, like the words on the tip of his tongue are too painful to let out.
"He's … he's … " He pants as he forces the words out. He looks up at me, now a steady stream of tears falls from his eyes. "He's dead, Edward. Murdered." The word falls from his mouth barely louder than a whisper. He sags against Bella, sobs wracking his body violently.
I'm rooted in place. I can't move. A loud roar, like the wind from a tornado fills my head and I hold my hands over my ears, as if I can keep the sound away. Oh my God. Gone … Wayne … is gone.
"I don't understand," I murmur. I close my eyes and then open, hoping against hope that the last five minutes have all been some sort of nightmare. I fell asleep with Bella on the couch and had a nightmare. This isn't real, I try to tell myself. When I open my eyes and see Carlisle, listless and broken and in Bella's arms, I know no amount of wishing will bring him back.
"Who called you? What happened?" I ask and stumble back to the couch. The few steps feel like walking through quicksand and when I sit, it takes a few moments for me to catch my breath.
Christ. This can't possibly be happening.
He wipes his eyes and then sits up. From the looks of him, he won't be upright for long. "The police didn't tell me very much, but what I do know is sometime very early yesterday morning, he was shot multiple times. A neighbor went to go bring him some mail that got delivered to his house by mistake and when he got to the front door, noticed that it was cracked open. He stuck his head in to call for Wayne, and saw his body in the hallway laying in a pool of blood. He called 911 immediately and when the police arrived, Wayne was already dead. I'm listed as his next of kin which is why they called me."
I wrap my arms around my stomach and bend over at the waist. I'm sick. He tried so hard to help guys just out of prison by giving them a place to live as they started over and one of those fucking pieces of shit killed him.
I fly off the sofa, enraged. "The police know who did it though, right? I mean it can't be too hard to figure out which of those ungrateful bastards that live at the halfway house shot him." My voice has risen and even to my own ears I sound like I'm losing it. Knowing that Wayne is … gone … has shaken me.
Fuck … he's really gone.
Carlisle shakes his head again. "No, Edward. Right now Wayne only has two men living at the house and both of them were at work and their whereabouts have been verified. It wasn't either of them." His voice trails off at the end and I can tell he wants to say more, but something is stopping him.
"What? I know there's more. Tell me," I demand. I shiver from the cold sweat that's spread all over my body and my stomach is already coiled, just waiting for the rest of the news.
Bella reaches out to him and rubs her hand soothingly up and down his back and I can't help but feel proud and so thankful for her. She smiles at me, her eyes hidden beneath her own tears. She loved Wayne and spoke of him often. I start to think of seeing him just a few short weeks ago when he drove all the way up to visit me in the hospital. He tried to play it off as just doing his job, but he didn't fool me or anyone. He'd been worried about me and wanted to make sure I was all right. I stop myself from delving any deeper though; I don't have time to indulge right now.
"Edward," Carlisle begins warily and the tone of his voice stops me dead in my tracks. "There is more, but you have to promise to stay calm."
Of course his words just make the anxiousness I feel spike and I look at him incredulously. "Fuck, Carlisle, you can't say shit like that to me and expect me to not freak the fuck out!" I groan and once again plunge my fingers in my hair.
"Babe," Bella calls to me softly. "This is hard on all of us." She gives a small shake of her head as well as a very pointed look, which immediately makes me hang my head. I'm such an asshole.
I inhale deeply at her reminder and feel like kicking my own ass for talking to Carlisle that way. "I'm sorry," I tell him sincerely. "I'll try to stay calm." I don't promise I will because he knows as well as I do it's a promise I'm more than likely going to break.
"I haven't been told too much. I'll find out more when I go to Boston."
"When we go to Boston," I interrupt succinctly.
He nods, but keeps going. "They did have a few questions for me though, questions about … you," he whispers the last part. My heart stutters in my chest, stopping then starting like a car that's backfired.
"Me?" I cry out. All at once images of cops bursting through Bella's door, guns at the ready while they slap handcuffs on me and drag me kicking and screaming from her house makes me grab my head and groan, mumbling, "No, God no."
"Edward, calm down. They only want to talk to you. When the police arrived at the halfway house, your file was open on his desk. They just need to ask you some questions, that's all. You're not a suspect or anything, okay?" Carlisle's voice is scratchy from his tears and I know he needs Esme.
I know I need Bella, even though she's been in the same room with me this whole time. My mind is full of chaotic thoughts and feelings and I need her calm, her touch, to keep me from falling the fuck apart.
"Esme and I are leaving for Boston in the morning. I need to formally identify the body since I'm the next of kin, even though there are enough of Wayne's friends left on the force to make a positive ID." His voice catches but he waves off both Bella and me when we step forward to support him. He takes a deep breath. "I've talked to Chet and told him what's happened and that you would be out of town for a few days, possibly longer. Wayne never wanted a big funeral or anything like that, so there will be a small service for his closest friends and then a memorial. He wanted to be cremated," and with that the tears start again. None of us even attempt to stop them as the words of finality … of death hang heavy and oppressive in the air, like the dark cloud that will surely follow us all the way to Boston.
"I just can't believe he's gone," Carlisle whispers and then flings himself at me. He sobs against my chest and though I try not to, I let myself cry right along with him. "So senseless," he says brokenly. He straightens his shoulders and swipes at his face, looking so much older than he did since just this morning.
Jesus Christ, has it only been that long?
"We'll see you in the morning, okay? Early. I want to get there and get his body out of the morgue; he doesn't need to be there." He kisses us each on the cheek before rushing out of the house and back to Esme.
Instantly, Bella's arms are around me and she leads me to the sofa. I let go as soon as she holds me, feeling so lost and alone. First my parents, then my grandmother and grandfather, and now … Wayne. Everyone has been taken from me, plucked away like the petals of a daisy, one by one. Who next? Carlisle? Esme? Charlie? Alice? Bella? Just the thought makes me cling to her, squeezing her so tight as if I can somehow take her inside of me and keep her there forever.
"Promise me you'll never leave me, baby. Please. Everyone leaves me, but I can't lose you. I can't survive without you," I sob into her neck.
She lays down on the sofa, and pulls me on top of her. "Shhh, Edward. I'm never leaving you. I love you," she whispers, kissing me over and over again. I feel her hands everywhere, rubbing my back, then her fingers through my hair, then on my face, reminding me with each touch that, for now, I'm not alone, that she's here with me.
I continue to cry and she continues to comfort until I feel myself drift off into an uneasy sleep.
The next three days pass by in a blur. I was numb for most of it, only going through the motions. I'd been nervous as hell talking to the police, but thankfully as Carlisle promised, they were only looking for answers. Ryan was with me, which helped, sans tattoo as expected. Luckily when I saw him he was able to explain his whereabouts for the past few days before I killed him … then I really would have had something to be worried about concerning the police. He'd been on vacation, a quick trip out of town to a remote cabin in the Adirondacks with his girlfriend, Kim. There was no cell service at all where they were and right before they left to head back to Boston, he'd dropped his phone in the snow so he had to get a new one. By the time he'd gotten his new phone set up and retrieved all his messages, he knew everything that had happened in his absence. Needless to say, he felt like shit for causing so much confusion … even though it was inadvertent. He had no clue who approached Bella. We told the police what little we could about the strange meeting and they agreed that it was something to be concerned about, more so now considering Wayne's murder.
The service after the cremation was difficult. It brought back so many memories, painful ones at that. Not only did I relive burying my grandmother, but it was like saying goodbye to my grandfather and Wayne at the same time. Sitting in the small chapel with Carlisle on one side and Bella beside me, Esme beside Carlisle, I couldn't help but just sort of let go and follow where they led. My head was turned so inside out I could barely form a coherent thought, so much so it took Carlisle two tries to get me to speak to Wayne's ex-wife, Angie. She was just as I'd pictured, big blonde hair, bright blue eyes that looked so much older than she was, and what was once a beautiful smile but was now a permanent frown from the looks of things. I didn't talk to her long, her pain at losing her last connection to their son, Zach, so palpable it was hard to breathe.
The memorial was even more difficult. Cops that used to be on the job with him, police officers he worked with now, men he'd helped by giving them a place to start over, all sang his praises. Over and over again people spoke of his faith in the good in people, of his belief that everyone deserved a second chance, and of his gruff, no holds barred way and the unfailing commitment he made to make those around him strive to be better … to do better.
It was when Mr. Burleson, the man I'd saved, approached me after the service was done, that caused me to truly fall apart. Seeing him alive and healthy, thanking me for what I'd done, shocked me so fully and made everything come full circle. We spoke for a few moments, neither one of us sure what to say. How does one thank you for saving their life, while paying for that sacrifice with their freedom? How do you thank someone for fighting for you when you didn't even know it and ensuring that your second chance wasn't for nothing?
"I knew when I learned more about you that I did the right thing by going to Wayne," Mr. Burleson had whispered as he hugged me while saying our goodbyes. "Have a good life, Edward. You deserve it."
I was speechless; all I could do was nod before he squeezed me one more time then turned around and walked away. I wasn't sure we'd ever speak again.
"I'm going to let Peyton spend one more night with Mom and Dad," Bella says softly, pulling me from my thoughts. I startle though, when I realize we're already back in Corea.
I run my hands over my face before I turn to look at her. "I miss her, but I think that's probably for the best. I don't know about you, but I'm fucking exhausted. I just want to crawl into our bed and hold you." I reach out and ghost the backs of my fingers down her cheek. "Thank you for being so fucking strong the last few days. You've been my rock. I never would have made it without you. You're amazing, Bella. I love you so much." I run thumb up and down her jaw, wishing there was a way to show her how incredible I think she is.
She smiles, a huge smile that I haven't seen in far too fucking long and it soothes the frayed edges of my tattered heart in a way nothing else can. Well, nothing besides being buried inside of her, which will hopefully be happening as soon as we get home.
"You said our bed," she whispers. When she looks at me, her eyes burn with love, with the same want and need that I feel.
I swallow past the lump in my throat. I lick my lips and stare at her. Luckily she's paying attention to the road that leads to the house because if I was looking into her bottomless brown eyes, I'd never want to look away. I lean across the console of Renée's Jeep and kiss her neck. Placing my lips beside her ear, I tell her, "I want it to be our bed. I want it to be our everything. Our couch, our towels, our TV … our home. I want it. I want you and Peyton … forever."
"Oh, God, Edward," she breathes out. I hear the leather of the steering wheel crack beneath her hands, her fingers white from holding on so tightly.
She pulls into her driveway and slams the car into park so fast that she's out of her seat belt and into my arms before I even have time to take off my own seat belt. "I want that, too, Edward. So much. Always, forever. I love you. I love you. I love you," she cries between kisses. "Take me inside, make love to me in our bed. Please. Right now."
I pull her into my arms and open the door, somehow managing not to drop her as we stumble out of the car. Her legs are wrapped around my waist and my hands cup her ass. I kick the door closed behind me and walk toward the front door. For just a moment, a flash and then it's gone, the most uneasy feeling creeps up my spine and I shiver.
"What is it?" Bella asks as she picks her head up. My neck immediately misses her lips and her tongue on it and I shake my head, wanting nothing more than to feel all of her against all of me.
"Nothing, baby," I answer, pushing away everything but her.
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
Aleksei POV
I roll my shoulders to try to ease the knot at the base of my neck, once, twice, to no avail. I'm used to sitting still for long periods of time; in my line of work it's sort of a necessity, but even I have my limit, and I passed it a few hours ago. I take another drag of my cigarette, not worried in the least that anyone can see me. I've picked my spot well; I've a knack for these things you see.
I'm fucking tired of standing here though, that's for damn sure, but I can't leave. Not when I've waited all this time and not when I'm so close to making my dream come true.
Well, for me it's a dream, for anyone else … anyone with a conscience that is, it'd be more like a nightmare, but what the fuck ever.
Seven long fucking years.
Eighty-four months.
Three hundred sixty-four weeks.
Two thousand five hundred fifty-five days.
If you want, I can count down the minutes and even the seconds for you. Trust me, I know exactly how long it's been since Edward fucking Masen screwed up my life.
Fucking pussy.
All he had to do was run with me, but did he? Hell fucking no. He whined and chickened the fuck out and in the process ruined everything I had going for me. God damn I should have known better, but for some strange reason, we had this instant connection the first time we met in high school. He was this brooding, angry little shit but for some reason, we clicked. The first time I saw him we were at this party and he got into a fight with a guy. I can't even remember what for now, but Edward was literally wailing on the dude. He was so angry, so lost, and honestly, I saw myself in him. The guy he was kicking the shit out of had friends, and when those friends decided to jump into the middle of the fight, well, I jumped in, too. I was never one to shy away from kicking some ass and the fact they were going to make it a four on one fight just pissed me the fuck off.
Needless to say, not one, but four guys got their asses handed to them like a bunch of little pricks and from that moment on, Edward and I were pretty much inseparable. Hanging out with him was cool. He always got his hand on cash when we needed it, even though he whined like a little bitch half the time because he felt bad taking it from his pathetic grandfather. I got him high. I got him drunk. And with Edward around, there was never a shortage of pussy. The chicks dug him … especially after he'd been in a fight. That wounded, brooding, dark thing he had going on was a pussy magnet to the extreme. Not that the motherfucker took advantage like he could have. Sure he got laid, more often than not so wasted he had no idea what the fuck was happening, but he sure as shit didn't fuck anywhere near as often as he could have. I'm not lying; chicks would drop their panties at the sight of him, but all the asshole wanted to do was cry about how much he missed his grandmother.
What a fucking pussy.
I started skipping school more and more until I finally dropped out, and though I could get Edward out at night to party, I couldn't get him to blow off school. It was a fucking drag but the guy wouldn't budge. Finally I got sick of asking and started doing my own thing during the day. I figured I could have the best of both worlds. During the day, I started dealing drugs, getting in good with the right people and at night, I'd let Edward bring us the pussy like lambs to the slaughter. It worked fine, too. Edward graduated and got some crappy job at some warehouse downtown.
His pain in the ass grandfather finally had enough of his bullshit and kicked him out. I pretended to be sympathetic, at least a little bit, but I was happy as a fucking pig in mud at having Edward so close by all the time. I was angling toward Edward following me into dealing, knowing that with his looks and charisma, we could take over the fucking town. I started bringing him with me, letting him learn the ropes so to speak. I never told him that, of course. I let him think I just needed him for backup. Really, what I was doing was getting him used to being around those kinds of people and letting him learn how to handle himself if shit came down. There were plenty of times when it did, and he learned fast and well how to kick ass. He liked to pretend he was above it all, that he didn't enjoy getting dirty and feeling bones break beneath his knuckles, but I knew better. Edward was going to be my ticket to bigger and better things … which was why I tricked him into coming with me to that house.
Damn, I'd staked that house for weeks before I finally made my move. I'd owed some mafia wannabe some serious cash and I needed money in a hurry. The fucker was breathing down my neck and I knew the only way to get him off my back was to pay him. I did a little bit of research and stumbled upon Mr. Jack Burleson, computer software executive and friend to the current mayor. His house was perfect: set far back from the road, no neighbors, and more importantly, no front gate. His house just begged to be robbed and I was going to give it its wish. Someone like that had to have a safe, probably stashed with cash and jewels. I didn't care so much about the jewels, I was after easy money.
Edward had hemmed and hawed, acting like a complete douche about the whole thing, whining about every fucking thing. I was already nervous as fuck. Sure I'd dealt drugs and even used my knife a time or two, but I'd never shot someone. The gun I'd brought with me was heavy in my pocket, like a weight that I couldn't shake. But, it was do or die time, and I wasn't going to go down, that was for fucking sure.
Pushing our way into the house was easier than I ever imagined, and when the dude started blubbering about taking whatever we wanted and begged me not to hurt him, I knew I'd done it. Once the safe was emptied and the cash was in my hand, shooting him had been as easy as breathing. That was until Edward had to go all Florence Nightingale on me. When he refused to run with me, I almost killed him then and there. I should have.
Seven years I've spent running, hiding, like a fucking cockroach afraid of the light. First I went out to LA, then down to Houston, and even slipped into Mexico for a few years. My connections came in handy, hiding me, getting me ID, and over the years built up my reputation as a ruthless operator. I became proficient in cleaning up messes, finding that I rather enjoyed the feeling of a gun in my hand, not to mention the thrill of using it, of watching the life bleed out of someone right before my eyes.
I never forgot about Edward though. Every mark I took out, every order I fulfilled, it was his face I saw when I pulled the trigger. With each body, the need to make Edward pay grew and grew. Lucky for me, and quite unlucky for Edward, a contact I'd made years ago tracked me down and told me of the most interesting conversation he'd overheard just the day before.
Apparently, my dear Edward was alive and well and doing quite handsomely for himself in some shit fishing village in Maine. It'd rung a vague bell with me. I remembered Edward moaning about his grandmother and the summers they used to spend in Maine when he was younger. My contact went on to tell me how he was at the courthouse with his brother and heard his old parole officer talking to some lawyer about an Edward and how he was recovering from some kind of accident. It wasn't until the lawyer was heard saying, "It's funny. Masen survived seven years in prison, but put him out on the water, and he goes overboard. Edward's a lucky, lucky man. What do you want to bet Bella makes him put that law degree he got inside to good use?" that my contact put two and two together.
I made my contact repeat the conversation three times, my smile growing more and more each time. Finally, I'd be able to have my vengeance. I had Wayne's last name and from there it was easy to track him down. He didn't go down without a fight, I'll give the old fucker that much. He fought like a lion once he realized who I was and who I was after; he even begged me to spare Edward, offering himself up instead. As if that would appease me. Not fucking likely.
I shot him three times, a bit of an overkill, but I wanted to send a message. I was coming for Edward. I found his file easily enough, and read all about how Edward had saved the guy, how he turned on me, how he got a reduced sentence for turning his back on me and everything I'd done for him. How the guy he saved pushed and prodded until Edward was granted parole, and a special one at that, complete with a nice, comfy cushion of a hundred thousand dollars and a new home in Corea.
Getting to Edward's woman was a lot easier than I ever pictured it being. She sure is a delectable thing, all long hair and big eyes, firm tits and a tight ass. It took all I had to leave her, especially after she'd made it so easy. Dropping the lawyer's name on her was a stroke of genius on my part. She'd been suitably wary until then, even denying she knew Edward, but once she heard the name, she was putty in my hands. I could tell there was a tiny part of her that was still unsure, and I couldn't help but taunt her with her daughter's name. Wayne's file on Edward had been a veritable font of information.
Lucky for me.
Unlucky for Edward.
So now, here I sit, staring at the tattoo on my hand, the one I see every time I hold a gun.
Revenge.
It's been all I've thought about for seven long fucking years and now it's so close I can taste it.
I shift when I see an SUV pull up into Edward's girlfriend's driveway. My heart, instead of speeding up, slows down as I watch Edward and Bella fall out of the car, hanging all over each other. Even from where I'm standing I can feel their connection.
My blood turns to ice.
"Enjoy it, Edward, because soon, it's all going to be gone."
~~~~OOO~~~~OOO~~~~
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