Age of Edward Contest 2012
Pen Name: EveryDayBella
Title: The One I Love Belongs to Somebody Else
Type of Edward: 1920's Edward
The One I Love Belongs to Somebody Else
The reign of tears is over. The slums will soon be a memory. We will turn our prisons into factories and our jails into storehouses and corncribs. Men will walk upright now, women will smile and children will laugh. Hell will be forever for rent.
-Reverend Billy Sunday at the beginning of Prohibition
Chicago, Illinois
September 21, 1924
"Mama." I gently nudged my mother's stiff shoulder. Slowly her gaze turned to me, although it was barely any more focused then it had been moments ago. "Mama, I have to go to work. I will be back in the morning. If you need anything just get Alice next door, all right?"
She nodded, but it was clear that she did not truly understand. I hated leaving her, but someone had to be able to pay the rent. I kissed my mother's cheek and walked out of the door.
My name is Edward Mason. My parents, Edward Sr. and Elizabeth Mason, moved to Chicago from Ireland just before I was born. We have never had much, but we made due. My parents came to America looking for freedom and the chance to raise a family without worrying about how to feed them. In the end, they only had me, but they never complained. They saw to it that I got a good education so they could send me to college.
Their dreams fell apart. In 1920, my father had an accident at the factory where he worked. He languished for four days before he died. It shattered my mother. She was never the same again. She didn't smile, or laugh, or even talk much anymore. She would not do the seamstress work she had previously done. At the age of seventeen I had to take care of my mother. I pushed away the thought of school and started doing any jobs I could get.
I did not realize it at the time, but that same year that my father died, my fate began working in another way. In 1920, there was a new Constitutional Amendment that would bring about what would be known as Prohibition. Basically it meant that in the United States of America you could not make, sell, or drink alcohol. Over the last four years things had changed, and nowhere was that more evident than Chicago. The mobs ran the city through their control of the speakeasies, bootlegging, and prostitution. They controlled the taps, so they controlled us.
Two years ago, while in between jobs, I met a man who would guide me into that world. I had not had a job in a month and I needed something, anything. I could not pay the rent and it was past due. I couldn't leave my mother out on the streets; I just couldn't do it. So when the mysterious man in a nice suit offered me a job, I couldn't say no. That night I spent my first night at a speakeasy owned by Al Capone. I have been there almost every night since.
As I walked down the dangerous twilight lit streets of Cicero, I was careful that no one followed me. Capone may have had control of almost everything in the town, but that didn't mean that some enterprising police officer wouldn't decide that we needed a visit. If any of the big guys found out that I brought a raid down on us, I would be dead before morning.
With one last look behind me, I swept down the dark alley and through a nondescript wooden door. I could hear the strands of jazz music coming from the front room. I stepped into the back room, took off my coat, fixed my shirt and tie, and walked into the speakeasy.
The first thing that most people thought of when they entered a speakeasy was that it was loud. Ours had a full jazz band that lent a lively atmosphere to the room. The bar was crowded and everyone was talking and laughing. The lights were dim and it was hazy from the smoking patrons. I could just barely see beyond the crush of bodies to the dance floor where couples were dancing.
For the next three hours I was kept busy filling drink orders. It wasn't until the crowd at the bar began thinning that I saw her. Her skin was pale and set off by the sparkling blue of her dress. Her hair was brown and glossy. Surprisingly, she wore it long and flowing, instead of in the short styles that most women were wearing these days. She was a bit short, but not overly so. Her smile would have lit the whole room and her warm brown eyes were sparkling with life and mischievousness. I desperately wanted her to look at me with those deep orbs.
Instead, they were focused on the man at her side. He was tall, probably taller than I was. His hair was jet black and cropped close to his head. There was something about him that put me on edge. He had his arm around her waist and they were laughing. My first guess was that they were married. I felt my heart sink. Of course the angel making her way through the smoke would be married.
"Sir, madam, what can I get you?" I asked as they approached the bar. I may not have been able to have a woman as beautiful as this one, but I would content myself with getting to be near her for a while.
"Whiskey, straight up, and a bottle of champagne. Bells, what would you like?" The dark haired man turned toward his wife. I had a name at least, Bells. It sounded off to me. I guessed it to be a nickname.
She bit her bottom lip and studied the line of alcohol behind me. "A vodka tonic, please," she finally told me. Her voice was soft and charming. Perhaps it was not an unjustified nickname.
I took a deep breath and refocused my mind. It was not my job to worry about customers' names. It was my job to get them drinks so that Demetri could get their money. Those were the only things that mattered—drinks and money.
September 25, 1924
They were back. This time her dress was a pale pink and her hair was put up in a more stylish bun. I liked it better when it was down. It had been long and lustrous the other day. Regardless, she still looked beautiful. I began hoping that she would come over to the bar.
Unfortunately, her husband was going to ruin my night. He sent her to get a seat and came to order the drinks—a vodka tonic again. I made them for him, and he left to join her. I watched them discreetly as they danced.
She loved to dance, and I loved watching her. She would drag him out to the dance floor time and time again. Whenever a fast number came on she would laugh and spin about, complete euphoria in her face. When it was over she would be flushed red, but she would still be smiling.
I did notice, however, that they never danced a slow song. Every time the band slowed the tempo he would entice her back to their table. She always looked upset or sad at that point. I thought it odd. If I had been the one she had with her, I would have been taking every chance I had to have her in my arms.
"That's Jacob Black, you know?" Jasper mentioned, after he passed a beer across the bar to patron. Jasper always helped me run the bar. He and his wife, Alice, had just had their first child, and it was hard for him to be away them. Still, he was here every night anyway, and he was the closest thing I had to a friend. He and Alice lived in the apartment next to Mama and me. Alice would help me look after her sometimes. "He runs some of Capone's brothels not too far from here."
"Who's that he's with?" I asked, trying not to give away how much I had been watching her.
"That's his wife, Isabella." Jasper shot me a look out of the corner of his eye, but did not say anything about why I had been asking. "She's the daughter of Captain Swan, the Police Chief's right hand man."
That name I recognized. I had read about him in the paper. I wondered if he knew his daughter had married one of Al Capone's businessmen. It did not seem like a good idea, but then Charlie Swan would not be the only dirty cop on the force. The whole damn thing seemed dirty these days.
I watched Isabella and her husband sitting in a corner booth. They appeared to be happy, and I guess that was the only thing that mattered. Still, it seemed there was this air of sadness that hovered around her. It was not in anything obvious, just the way she looked at her husband when she was sure that he wasn't looking. It was like she was looking at a stranger.
September 30, 1924
It was late when she walked into the speakeasy. Rain dripped from her coat and hair. She had worn it down again tonight, and I silently cheered. I did not see her husband anywhere with her.
She unbuttoned her coat and hung it on the rack by the door before making her way to the bar. I was quick to intercept her and take her order before Jasper could. I didn't miss the worried and concerned look he gave me. I just wanted to talk with her—that was all. Besides, what would she see in me? She was a lady of wealth and shelter; I was a poor boy of Irish immigrants. Never mind that she was married.
"Can I get you something, ma'am?" I asked when she took a seat. She looked at me from underneath the short brim of her hat and smiled.
"Vodka tonic, please," she said. Her voice was the softest soprano I had ever heard, and I knew that she must have sung at some point.
I nodded, having lost my voice, and turned to make her drink. Fortunately, it was an easy one so it did not take long before I had turned back around to her. I slid the drink to her and began to clean the bar. The speakeasy was fairly empty tonight, the band just softly playing, and as a result, she and I were the only ones at the bar. Jasper had gone to the back room to talk to Demetri and there were only a handful of other customers there. I did not say anything to her, it would not be polite, and so I contented myself with just being near her.
"Do I know you from somewhere?" she asked suddenly. When I looked up at her she was looking at me in confusion.
"I don't think so, ma'am," I told her. "At least, I don't see how."
She shrugged, smiling. "No, I guess not. My father is always telling me not to jump to conclusions about people. It will only get me in trouble. At least that's what he always said. I still cannot help thinking that you look familiar, however."
"I have only ever been here." I smiled at her. It was not like I could tell her that I had been watching her every time she had been in. She would have me fired in a heartbeat.
"Well, I'm Bella Swan, or no, Black." She gave an unladylike snort, and I got the impression that she was uncomfortable with her last name.
"Edward Mason." I was going to end it there, but I could not keep a question from escaping my lips. "How long have you been married?"
She studied me for a moment, no doubt wondering what had just given me the gall to ask her such a personal question. I thought for sure I was done for, but she surprised me by answering.
"Four months, give or take a few days. I'm just not used to my new name. I have been a Swan for my whole life. It's just strange to suddenly be someone else. Do you think it is odd that we are raised to be one person with one name and then told to be this other person with this other name?"
"I wouldn't know, Mrs. Black," I said, trying not to laugh. I was beginning to discover that she was very strange. This only endeared her to me even more. "I have never been married."
"Oh, of course not." A bright red blush blossomed across her cheeks. I was shocked at the color and intensity as her embarrassment showed clearly across her face. "Besides, you're a man and you wouldn't change your name. I'm sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. And please, call me Bella. Mrs. Black is my mother-in-law."
Bella. I had had Italian neighbors and picked up a few words of their language—enough to know that bella meant beautiful. Nothing could have been more perfect for her. I certainly liked it much more than the nickname her husband had come up with. "Only if you agree to call me Edward. Mr. Mason was my father."
"Edward," she said softly, while a much lighter but somehow much more intense blush flooded her cheeks.
A shiver of pleasure shook my frame when my name left her lips. It was replaced by a sigh of contentment as her name left my own.
October 14, 1924
Bella came in many times in the next several weeks, mostly on the weekends with her husband. On these nights, we would pretend to not even know each other. I would watch her dance and laugh with her husband, gratifying myself with the occasional small glances she would send my way.
Then there were the other nights, when she would come in, sit at the bar, and we would talk—for hours sometimes—while I worked. The words flowed between us without any real effort. It was like we had known each other for years and were the best of friends.
At first, we talked about simple things—music, literature, the pictures (she told me all about them since it had been years since I had been able to go,) and even a little politics. Bella was out spoken and opinionated, and I loved to hear her talk.
As time passed, we began to talk about more personal things; childhood experiences, adolescence, rebellions, and our lives in general. Bella was fascinated by my stories of growing up in Cicero. I told her about my father, how he had died in a work accident, and how it had destroyed my mother. She had been shocked and expressed her sympathies. I had assured her that it was all right, that we would survive like we always had.
In turn, she had told me how she lived with her middle class family. It was hard for me not to be jealous of her. She had lived in a good neighborhood and had had nice things. However, if one of us had to live poor then I was glad it was me. I could handle it, and Bella deserved better.
This was the most important thing I realized about Bella—she was good. She belonged in a perfect world where there was no pain or hurt. When she had found out that Jasper was worried about his baby and Alice, both of whom had been sick, she had listened to him without a word and then had offered whatever help and encouragement she could. When she had seen a man sitting at the end of the bar crying she had gone over to him to comfort him. She had given no thought to her own comfort or safety and had just done what was right. She deserved somewhere much better than our smoky speakeasy.
Still, she came in every couple of nights and sat with us and talked. Jasper had even warmed up to her being there. On slow nights, she would talk to us both while we cleaned. Most of the time, however, it was just she and I settled into my corner of the bar talking until it was time for her to go home. I was worried about her walking home in those dark dangerous streets. She assured me that it was safe, but it didn't help, since I would worry about her until the next time I saw her.
Throughout all of this we had never touched or so much as even seen each other without a bar between us. No matter how comfortable we were together, there were always little things that would remind us of how little alike we were. My most constant reminder was the gold metal band on her finger.
In many ways that was the hardest part, because last night, while I watched her dance with her husband, the light overhead gleaming on her hair and the sequins of her dress, I realized that I loved her. Bella Black was the woman I had always dreamed about. She was beautiful and charming, as well as caring, gentle, and patent. I was certain she would be a wonderful mother.
She was another man's wife, and I would have to satisfy myself with watching them from afar. It was dangerous, these feelings that I had for Bella. I would have to be careful. At some point, sooner rather than later, she would want to leave. She was married; she did not see me like that. Her life would pull her away from here to the place where she belonged. I would have to stay and become a distant memory. I couldn't get too upset about it—Jacob could give her the life she deserved. I didn't have money and I struggled just to pay the rent sometimes. She deserved much better than that.
As such, I was not expecting her to be here tonight. She usually gave it a couple days after she and Jacob had been here before she came again alone. This was a wonderful night for her to come. Since, we were not busy, I had told Jasper to go home and take care of Alice and the baby who were still under the weather. There were only a handful of customers. The band had left an hour ago, and there was a record playing instead. Demetri had even left, not expecting to have much more money in tonight, and told me to lock up.
The bar was clean, the tables were clean, the glasses washed, and there was nothing else to do. So I puttered around behind the bar while the last of the patrons finished their drinks. When I heard the door open, I did not even look up, thinking it was just one of them leaving. It was not until I noticed someone sitting down at the bar and hearing a soft "Hello, Edward," that I noticed Bella.
She was so wet. It must have been really raining out there because she looked like a drowned rat. Her hair hung in curling lumps. Her somber black dress, a far cry from the usual bright sequined one's she wore, was dripping out to the floor, and she was shivering. What worried me most, however, was her face. Her eyes were dull and heavy and she was frowning. Her smile was usually bright enough to light up the bar, but not tonight.
"Bella you're soaked. You are going to catch your death. Stay here and I will be right back." I hurried to the back room and brought her my coat. It was not the best coat, it was thin and there were several holes, but she did not complain when I offered it to her. She gave me small smile and a thank you. I told her not to worry about it and quickly made her a drink—her favorite, vodka tonic. I let her take several sips before asking, "Are you okay, Bella?"
She sniffed and burrowed into my coat a little bit more. "My husband is cheating on me," she said, with no emotion in her voice. "I'm not really surprised. I have always known what he does—I mean really does. He's not just a businessman. He runs a couple of Al Capone's brothels. So of course he sleeps with some of them. What else do you do when you own a bunch of whores?"
I stared, wide eyed at her. I did not know how to answer her. My only thought was that Jacob was an idiot. Bella was the idea of beautiful and caring. Most men would call themselves lucky to say that Bella was theirs. I did not understand how Jacob couldn't see that.
"You don't have to answer that," she replied, seeing the shock on my face. "You're sorry. You wish there was something you could do. Don't worry about it. I have known what he really does since right before we were married.
Her eyes were deep and lonely revealing her sadness. They were shiny with unshed tears, but I could tell by the set of her face that she was not going to let them fall. Bella was resilient and independent, just the image of a modern woman. She was sitting in a speakeasy, without her husband, drinking a vodka tonic, and refusing to cry because her husband was cheating on her. I did not know how she was so strong, but I admired her for it.
However, she was slowly losing her composure, and I knew she would hate to do that. I needed to distract her. "Tell me how you met him?"
She took a deep breath, a sip of her tonic, and began her tale. "You have to understand, before I start, that my father is a good man. Everything he has done was just to protect me and my mother and to take care of us. He is an honest man who just got in over his head. When I was a child, he was still a clean cop. Then, after the war, he started taking a little off the top, just a little. He did that for years before one of his supervisors caught him. Rather than turn him in though, he gave him a deal. Father would work for Capone and he could keep his job. He took it. It kills him every time he has to let a criminal go. That was never what he wanted. He just wanted to provide for mother and me. It's too late for him to get out now, but my Father is a good man. You have to understand that."
I nodded. I understood all too well how quickly good people get caught in bad things. I grew up in a desperate neighborhood. We were all looking for a way out. Sometimes things that seemed good to start out ended up just being a trap. I understood how that happened. "Bella, I'm a bartender at a speakeasy owned by Al Capone. I just needed a job to take care of my mother. I think I understand."
She smiled sadly and nodded. "I thought you might. Anyway, a couple months ago, at the beginning of the year really, a man started coming by the house fairly regularly for dinner among other things. I thought it was odd how my father was always so nervous around him. Then I noticed how much he seemed to be watching me. It made me uncomfortable.
"Then in April, Jacob came to dinner with the man. He paid close attention to me, asking what I thought about this and that. I didn't think it was anything odd, until he started coming night after night. Not a month later he asked me to marry him."
"What did you do?" I asked gently after she paused.
"What else could I do? I said yes," she spat bitterly. She finished her tonic and pushed it toward me. I refilled it and she drank some more before continuing. "I discovered that I had been offered as a wife for Jacob so that he could start running in city politics. He needs a wife and the Police Chief's right hand man's daughter is the prefect piece. Of course, it doesn't help that she is beautiful either. Father did not know what else to do. Al Capone needs someone on the city council and what he wants he gets. There was no fighting it.
"I learned about the brothels the night before the wedding. My best friend, Rose, her husband found out about them. They weren't going to tell me, but Emmett thought I should know. I didn't have a choice really, so I went through with the wedding. I thought that maybe if I gave him time, he would fall in love with me. That's all I want you know. It's why we make these trips here. I thought if we had some time out together that he would change his mind and really see me. It hasn't worked though, and I have about given up. That is sort of why I have been coming here by myself so much. You pay more attention to me than my husband ever has."
"I hope you do not mind me saying this, but your husband is an idiot. You are a beautiful, talented, gifted woman. All he should ever need is you."
She smiled, a blush creeping up her cheeks. The thought occurred to me that I may have been the only man in a very long time to have paid her any compliments.
We were silent after that, surrounded by our thoughts and the music coming from the record player. The other customers had left while we talked. For the first time we were really alone. It was a thought that was not lost on me.
Bella began swaying and humming to the music. I was fairly certain that the vodka was beginning to affect her. I should have told her to go home. It was late, and the streets were dangerous around here. A single young woman should not have been out here alone. However, I could not bear to tell her to leave. I had never been alone with her and I wanted it to continue.
"How old are you?" I suddenly asked. She knew how old I was, but I had never asked the same of her.
"Nineteen," she muttered.
I felt my jaw drop. She was only nineteen? I thought for sure she was at least as old as I was, maybe more.
She giggled, a truly musical sound. "I see that reaction quite a bit. Mother says I was born an adult and that I have an old soul. Crazy right?"
She drained her glass and I felt my heart drop. Now she would leave and go back to her husband, and I would never be alone with her again. To my surprise, she held out her hand across the bar and said, "Come on, I want to dance."
As much as I wanted to take her hand and pull her into my arms, I could not. She was married, and I couldn't have her, no matter how much I wanted to. Her husband may have been cheating on her, but I doubted that she would do the same. Besides, she deserved someone much better than me. I could not offer her anything. I was just a poor man without a hope of a future.
Bella must have seen the answer on my face. "Oh please, Edward, it's just a dance. It's not going to kill you. Unless, you can't dance?" She grinned, and I noticed what she was doing. She was goading my ego. I laughed and against my better judgment took her hand.
She giggled as I went around the bar to join her on the dance floor. We stood awkwardly for a moment, snickering at the absurdity of our situation. It did not take long, however, for the music to seep into our bones. The quick jazz beat had us flying across the floor laughing, spinning, and twirling. Bella was light on her feet as she quickly danced out the Lindy Hop. Her long free hair became tangled around her face and all she did was laugh. Bella was someone else on the dance floor, and she was a sight to see.
I realized that I was in the position I had wanted to be in ever since she had walked into the speakeasy—I was her chosen dance partner. I guided her flight, and she trusted me completely. The jazz had freed her soul, and I was the lucky one who got to help it along.
At the end of the number, I spun her back into my chest, and we collapsed into gales of laughter. I had never had so much fun dancing. However, I hadn't had many partners either. Perhaps that was the difference. It was freeing to dance with Bella. Her enthusiasm and childlike wonder, combined with the music, permeated into my bones, my heart, my very soul, and they combined to create the greatest emotion that I would surely ever feel.
We caught our breath as the next song on the record played. It was much slower and mellow. It did not dampen our mood as much as it played with it, heightening and deepening it. If we let it, it would take us to places we had never been before. We had come to a stop in the middle of the floor. We would have to decide how far to follow it.
"Why did you stop?" she asked softly, her brown eyes wide and confused.
"Well, you have never danced with your husband like this," I told her without thinking. "I thought that there might be a reason. You have never really looked very happy about it."
She sighed, but I could see the spark hiding in her eyes. "How closely have you been watching me, Edward?"
I smiled, embarrassed. "You have enamored me from the moment that you walked through the door, Mrs. Black."
She blushed delicately, the roses barely making an appearance on her pale cheeks. "Where were you four months ago?" she asked before catching herself. She pulled her gaze from mine but did not pull away from me. "Anyway, Jacob does care in his own way. Not dancing a slow dance with me has, in a way, kept my heart from breaking completely. If I did this with him, I would be his. It is oddly intimate, don't you think?"
"Do you want me to leave?" I asked. We were barely touching; her hands rested in my own nothing more. There was this feeling in the air, like a dividing line had been drawn, and we knew we should not cross it, however badly I wanted to.
"No." She shook her head and pushed herself closer to me. "I want to dance."
Who was I to argue with her? I very gingerly pulled her into my arms with one arm around her waist and the other out at our sides, the fingers twisted around each other's. We made slow circles around the floor and stared deep into each other's eyes. I knew it was but a fleeting moment with her in my arms, but I could not find it in me to worry about that. I had never been more peaceful or content than in that moment.
Bella surprised me further by resting her head against my shoulder. Her face was hidden from me with this view, obscured by the crown of her head, so I did not know what she was thinking. She did not seem to be upset; rather she was radiating the same emotions as I was—peace and contentment. We continued the dance into the next song, which was much more bitter sweet than the last one.
Bella surprised me further by singing very gently along with it. I was right; she had a beautiful voice. It was high but not harsh—soft, gentle, and sweet at the right times and then very powerful and stirring at others. Bella could have been a singer, and I was sure everyone would have listened to her. Her voice was magical.
The song ended and the record did as well. It began to click as it ran out of music. We ignored it and continued to dance. The only thing that changed was that Bella stopped singing. I was disappointed. I could have listened to her for hours. Still, it did give us a chance to talk. "You have a beautiful voice, Bella."
"Thanks," she murmured. "I used to sing at clubs before I got married. It was fun and it helped me get over my stage fright. Jacob said that I was a married woman now and it would not be appropriate to keep doing it."
"He is completely wrong," I told her. "A beautiful voice is a gift and should be shared."
"Who said that?" she asked, looking up at me.
"My mother when I was a child. She could sing like church bells. At least that's what my father told me."
She smiled sadly, knowing how hard it was for me to talk about my parents. We settled into silence after that, but we never stopped dancing. We moved to a beat of our own.
Finally, we slowed until we came to a complete stop. The atmosphere around us had changed. It was charged with electricity and a new kind of excitement. We were moving into uncharted waters, and before we went too far, we would have to determine how much trouble we were in and how much we were willing to endure.
Bella was still pressed into my front and there was not an inch of space between us. I was several inches taller than she was, so she had to gaze up to see me. Her beautiful brown eyes were wide with excitement and just a hint of fear. My mouth had gone dry and I could feel my hands shaking. I should not be doing this. She was married for God's sake—even if it was unhappily. She still had a future in front of her and this could only end one way—badly.
With trembling fingers I brushed hair out of her face, tucking the lock behind her ear. She surprised me, as she had done so much tonight, and leaned into my fingers. I cupped her face in my palm and trailed the high edge of her cheek just under her eyes with my fingers. "Your eyes are so clear and deep. I think I can see everything about you in them."
She traced my eyebrow before copying the way I held her cheek. "Your eyes are green. I do know that I have ever seen anything like them."
She had stood on her tip toes to see me better. Our faces were so close that our breaths were mingling in front of us. When our noses touched accidently we both jumped in shock, but like moths to a flame we kept getting closer. I knew I shouldn't do it. I knew it was wrong, but I could no longer keep away. With the barest amount of pressure I kissed her. I thought that she would pull away from me, slap me maybe, and tell me that she never wanted to see me again. Instead, she leaned into me, wrapped her arms around my neck, and pulled me closer to her. Her soft warm body melded to my own as her lips began to respond. Our kiss was unhurried and so very tentative. As we began to learn each other, it grew more bold but no less chaste. I was afraid to hold her too tightly, fearing she might break, or to go too far that she might pull away. I let her lead and I willingly followed. I would have followed her anywhere.
When she pulled away to breathe, the spell was broken. Bella opened her eyes and realized what she done. Her cheeks were flooded with color and her eyes wide with shock. "Edward, I." She gasped in shock. "I am so sorry. I should never have done that. I do not know what came over me. It must have been the drinks. I should go."
She made to move away out of my arms. On impulse, I tightened them, keeping her locked in my embrace. She did not fight it but sank back into my chest. "Bella, I should apologize. It was I who kissed you. You should know, however, that I am in love with you and I would not take any of it back. You deserve so much more than I can give and certainly more than Jacob is willing to give. I guess I am just trying to say whatever you want from me, you can have it. I understand if you do not see me that way at all. I am…"
Bella cut me off by pressing her lips to mine. This kiss was different. It was more urgent, more demanding. I gripped her slim waist in my hands and pulled her tight against me. Her hands tangled in my hair as we devoured each other. It was short, but we were both panting for breath when we pulled away. When we got it back, Bella took up the conversation. "I understand, Edward. I think I've felt the same way about you for a while now. That's why I have kept coming back here. There was something about you that I could not resist. I just need time, Edward. I don't know what I'm supposed to do with this. I'm married. I just don't know."
She was so confused that she had almost brought herself to tears again. I could not offer her a future. Mine would be a life of hardship and suffering. I had long ago accepted this. I could not willingly bring her into that with me. So, I did the only thing that I could do; I kissed her softly one last time and let her go.
October 21, 1924
A week had passed, and I had not seen Bella. At first, I had been worried. Perhaps Jacob had found out about our kiss and hurt her, but I thought if he had discovered that he would likely have had me killed long ago. Now, I was resigned. I was certain that she would remain with her husband, have a long and happy life, and forget all about me. That was the way it should be; the way it was supposed to be.
I was okay with it. She was where she belonged and she would be happy. That was all that I wanted for her. Still, I was acting less than happy myself. I was grumpy and short tempered. Jasper had told me to straighten up before everyone came in for the night. I had done my best, but it didn't help much. In the end, Jasper handled most of the bar, and I worked the back end.
As such, I did not see her until after she had been there a while. I was coming out of the back room, carrying several bottles out to Jasper, when I noticed Bella on the dance floor with Jacob. They were spinning. Bella's hair was down and she was smiling. I could not stop the answering smile from crossing my own face. God, I had missed her. My bad mood evaporated away and I was happy to just watch her from afar. She caught sight of me and smiled even more before the thought of other night caught up to her and she remembered whose arms she was in. Worry and fear took their place, and she glanced at her husband before turning back to me. I understood her message; she would come see me when she could get away from Jacob.
I did my best to focus on my work and not on Bella, but I still caught myself staring. Jasper kept shooting me warning looks. He knew something was going on and he was helping to keep me out of more trouble.
It was an hour before the four men in nice suits came in and began talking to Jacob. Ten minutes later, Jacob left with the men, leaving Bella alone for the first time tonight. As soon as the door was shut behind him, Bella was seeking me out. I discreetly motioned to the door that led to the back room. We could not talk in public where everyone could see us. Jacob could walk back in anytime and see us as well. That would not be good either. Bella nodded and held up five fingers before getting up and slipping away. As she indicated, I waited five minutes before following her.
It was the longest five minutes of my life. It felt like ages that I puttered behind the bar. I could not follow her right away because we did not want to raise suspicion. So, I stayed, filled a few drink orders, and then turned to Jasper. "You have everything handled up here for a little while?"
"Go, Edward," Jasper muttered. "But please be careful. She is married to a man with very powerful friends, and Alice and I can't take of your mother."
"Yeah, I got it. Thanks." I quickly left the front room and ducked into the dark hallway that linked the back rooms where our stores were kept. I didn't know which room she had chosen, so I went into the first doorway. Sure enough, in the dark room, Bella was waiting.
As soon as I was inside, she shut the door behind us and pulled me to her. I kissed her lips, settling her in my arms—right where she belonged. She did not complain wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me back. "I missed you," she finally said when we needed to breath.
"I wasn't sure if you were coming back," I told her, brushing back her hair and kissing her again.
"I wasn't sure either." Her brown eyes expressed how sorry she was for that, not that she needed to be. She would be better there than here with me. "Until about two days ago, I was planning on staying with Jacob. Then I realized how much I missed you. My friend, Rosalie, pointed out how grouchy I had been lately and forced me to tell her about you. When I was talking, I realized how much I cared about you. Edward, how is it possible that we feel this way about each other when we have known each other for less than a month?"
I shook my head. "I don't know, Bella. My mother always told me to believe in love at first sight. I never really did until now. Bella, you need to know that you would be better off staying with Jacob. I cannot offer you a life like he can. I'm a nobody; I have no money, no land, and no prospects. I love you, but I am not good for you."
"Edward, I would much rather live with a poor man who loves me than a rich man who just wants to use me. There are more important things than money. I've not always had everything either you know." She said it with such convection that I had to believe her. She must have known at least some of what she was talking about. "Anyway, if you are not ready to be with me, that's fine. I was probably going to leave Jacob anyway, even if I had not met you. I can go back to my parents. They might take me back for a while. I understand if you are not ready, I do."
It was my turn to cut her off. I kissed her, and this time it was not gentle. When we clashed, it was hungry and needy and raw. Our tongues fought for dominance. My hands drifted to her waist and I held her close, breathing in her scent. Bella had her fingers twisted into my hair. I was afraid to go too far, but I wanted so much more. I wanted to feel her skin under my fingertips, although I knew it was not appropriate. However, I didn't know how else to react. She had just told me that she wanted me.
I did not realize that I had pushed her up against the wall until I felt her fingers on the bare skin of my back. She had slipped her hand underneath my shirt and I pulled away from her shocked. I had my arms on either side of her on the wall, hedging her in. "Bella, if you want me, then you can have all that I have and am."
She smiled, placing her hand on my cheek. I turned so that I could kiss her palm and then covered her hand with my own. The silence spoke volumes. It was trusting, leaving us open and vulnerable to each other. I needed her, even though I could not have her yet. I knew I would do whatever I had to do to provide for her and make her happy, but I wanted so much more. I wanted to be with her—to have her the way she deserved.
Unable to resist any longer, I kissed her again, much softer this time but no less urgent. I was trying to control my body. She deserved so much better than to be taken on a dirty wall. I wanted to love her properly by being married to her, in our own home and bed. Her roaming hands were making it hard for me to think about such things. When they finally drifted to the front of my pants, I knew I had to stop this. It was torture to do so, however. "Bella, stop." I gasped. "We can't."
Her brown eyes, barely visible in the dim light, but still so bright, told me otherwise, as did her lips. "Edward, it's okay. Just let me be with you. You can do it properly later, I promise."
I shook my head, but gave into her all the same. She worked on my pants while I played with her dress at her hips. I shuddered and moaned when her fingers brushed against my hardness, and I finally could not stop it any longer. I pulled up her dress and wrapped her legs around my waist. Bella threw her head back and moaned when I entered her. The long column of her neck arched and her breathing hitched. I buried my face in her neck in an effort to stifle my moans. We could not be heard, and although no one usually came back here except Jasper and me, I did not want to take any chances.
Bella and I moved together and became one. There had never been a more spiritual experience than this. I was overwhelmed with emotion. For the first time, I could understand why my mother had shut down after my father's death. Because, if she had loved him with even just a tenth of what I felt at that moment, then it would have broken her heart to not have it any more. It was an all-encompassing feeling, and my world had suddenly been reordered around this woman in my arms.
Afterward, we stayed there a few moments trying to catch our breaths. Bella played with my hair, and I rested my head over her heart listening to its steady rhythm. "I always knew it had to feel like that," she finally whispered.
"Like what?" I asked, confused. I had never done that before, but I certainly thought we did well. Although she was a married a woman, she likely knew things I didn't.
Bella pulled on the ends of my hair in an effort to bring my face back up to hers. I rested my forehead against hers and stared into those brown eyes I had come to love so much in such a short amount of time.
"Did you feel that?" she asked tracing the planes of my face. "That connection when we were together?"
I nodded, still holding her against the wall with my body. I had certainly felt what she was speaking of. It was like our souls had merged, becoming a single entity. She and I committed an act that should have been wrong, but nothing could feel more right. I was not even sure that I could be separated from her now.
"That was what I always thought making love should feel like, and I have never once felt it with my husband. Edward, don't ever let me go." She sighed.
I kissed her again, making sure that she could feel our bodies pressed together. "Never," I promised, an oath that to us was as solemn as a wedding vow. I would never let her go if it was in my power to do so.
Unfortunately, it was not. Before I could really begin to even breathe again, we were pulling apart and making ourselves presentable. We had been back here together for too long. If Jacob saw Bella missing, he would get suspicious. I pulled her to me one last time and kissed her before releasing her. "Do not take too long," I told her. "I miss you already."
"As soon as I can figure out how to get away, I promise I will come back here. I love you." She hurried out of the room, and I understood why. Goodbyes were hard even at the best of times.
I gave her time to get back to the room and disappear before following her out. The speakeasy was even busier than when we had slipped away. The crush of bodies was oppressive and the bar itself was crowded. Jasper looked appreciative as I began helping him fill orders.
Everything went fine for about an hour. There was nothing out of the ordinary; the music was loud and drinks flowed. Everyone was happy. I could not see Bella, and I was a little bit worried about that. However, she and Jacob could have left, and I just may not have been able to see because of the all the people between me and the dance floor. There did not have to be anything nefarious about her absence. Still, I could not fight off the feeling that something was not right. I just couldn't put my finger on what.
I would soon have my answer delivered to me. Jasper and I were trying to clean the bar since we had a little breathing space when the door flew open with a bang. For just a moment everything continued as if nothing happened, then everything petered out in an awful moment of stillness.
"Raid!" someone shouted, and the entire building went into motion. There was a general stampede toward the back entrance. People were pushing, shoving, and screaming. Blue uniformed police officers were storming through the front, whipping the crowd into a frenzy. My first thought was that Bella might be out there somewhere and she might be hurt. Then I realized if I didn't move I would be arrested, and that was the last thing either Jasper or I needed.
Jasper and I joined the rushing crowd. We pushed our way through the crowd and made it out to the back alley without too much trouble. We moved away from the building and out on to the main street before stopping.
"Well, I guess that's over." Jasper panted, leaning his arms on his knees. "We are going to have to find new jobs now. Great."
I nodded not saying anything. This was a mess. Of all the nights for a raid to happen, it had to be tonight. How was I going to find Bella now? I didn't even know where she lived.
"I guess I better get back home. You want to come back over to our place for a while? Alice would enjoy seeing you."
I shook my head. I thought I had seen a flash of long brown hair turn down an alley farther up the street. I wanted to see if it was Bella. If it was, I could follow her home and I would at least know where to find her. "I am just going to go home," I told Jasper. "There is no need to worry Mother. I will come around tomorrow. Tell Alice I said hello."
He said he would and took off toward home. I went farther down the street and came to the alley where the brown haired girl had gone. The alley was dark and there was only one light toward the front, blanketing the back in darkness. It was what I heard, however, that sent ice running through my veins.
"Ouch, Jacob, stop it! You're hurting me!"
"You God damn bitch! I knew you had been seeing that bartender all those nights you had been claiming you were out with your friends. How many times have you fucked him? How many!"
When I heard her scream, I took off down the alley. It turned behind the building and there was more light here. I could see Bella and Jacob, and it made my blood boil. He had her rammed up against the wall with his hand over her throat. She was choking and trying to fight him off. She was too small. Jacob had to be over six feet tall. Hell, he was taller than I was. There was no way she could fight him off, which only made me madder. I had one thing he did not have, surprise, and I planned to use it. I rushed over to him, pulled him off my Bella, and punched him square across the nose. I could hear Bella coughing as air rushed back into her lungs,; however, I could not turn to look at her. Jacob was picking himself back up. His nose was broken, and I felt proud of myself for that. He sneered when he dabbed at the blood that was running out of his nose. "I knew I was right. You are quite the whore, Isabella."
"I don't think Bella is the whore in this situation," I defended. I hoped I might be able to shame him into letting us go. It was a long shot but worth a try. "She is not the one who has been cheating ever since the beginning."
Jacob laughed, which was certainly not the reaction I was hoping for. "She is my wife. I can do whatever I like. Now, I will give you one chance. Move away from her and leave, and I will not hurt you. You can go free and I'll forget this ever happened."
If I left her, he would kill her. I had no doubt about it. I could see it in his face. I would not have that, so I slid closer to Bella and prayed that we could make it out of this alive. With the way that Jacob sneered and placed a hand in his pocket, I doubted our chances. Still, I would be damned if he got both Bella and me.
So I rushed him and managed to knock him to the ground, startling him. I got a few good blows in before he regained his composure. He rolled us, and I felt the first blow land across my cheek. Immediately, I felt the next one in my chest. The breath was knocked out of me and I could not think or hear anything else.
The next thing I was aware of was Bella screaming, "No, Jacob, don't! Please!"
When I looked up, Jacob had pulled a gun out of his pocket and was aiming it right at my head. I knew this was it. Bella's pleading was not doing any good. There was no way I was going to be able to knock the gun out of his hand. I was a dead man. My one wish was that I could tell Bella I loved her just one last time.
Jacob saw the acceptance of the inevitable enter my eyes and grinned. He knew he had won. However, he made one vital mistake and I grabbed at it. He turned to look over his shoulder at Bella and said, "Don't worry, Dollface, you're next."
The movement loosened his grip on the gun. I only had seconds, so I acted. Reaching up, I knocked the gun out of his hand and clear across the alley.
Jacob roared in outrage and launched himself back at me in a hail of blows. I felt one connect on my nose and another one on my arm before I got my wits back about me. I jabbed up at his stomach and he gasped. I rolled us so that I had the upper hand. After that, I lost track of who did what. We both got some good hits in, but neither of us could out right win. He was bigger and stronger, but I was faster and had been fighting my whole life.
Rain came down from the sky, soaking both us in seconds, and at the same time my experience began to fail me. Jacob was just too strong. He managed to pin me to the ground and get his fingers around my neck. No amount of fighting could get him off, and I was beginning to black out. My lungs were burning and I was only seconds from passing out. If I did that, I would not wake up. I was fighting as hard as I could, but I was losing. Jacob saw that and grinned, knowing that he was about to win.
Suddenly there was a loud "BANG," and Jacob's eyes went wide with shock. His fingers loosened and his eyes became unfocused. He toppled to the side and lay prone beside me. I gasped air back into my lungs and coughed almost choking all over again. It took me several moments before I could sit up and figure out what happened.
Bella was kneeling a yard away, holding a gun in her shaking hands. While we had been fighting with our fists, she had gone for the gun. When she had seen Jacob on top of me, she fired, hitting Jacob in the back. However, I could see the shock setting in. Her whole frame was shaking and her eyes were wide and staring at nothing.
"Bella," I said slowly, creeping toward her in an effort not to startle her. She did not acknowledge me, so I kept talking to her. "Bella, it's ok. It's over. Nothing is going to hurt you."
She finally looked at me. Her brown eyes were clearly showing how frightened she was, and I couldn't blame her. She had just killed her husband. I knelt next to her and very carefully put my hand over the gun. "Bella, can you please drop the gun, love?"
With trembling fingers, she released it into my hands and collapsed into my chest. She sobbed, clinging to me like a second skin. I tossed the gun away, not wanting to look at it and wrapped my arms around the women I loved more than anything. She had just saved my life.
Dark sheets of rain already soaked through us as we sat unmoving on the alley floor.I wasn't sure if it was shock or the freezing water that was making Bella shake violently, but either way something had to be done, and quickly. "Bella, we've got to move," I told her gently but firmly. "Are you all right?"
She nodded stiffly, but her wide, terrified eyes told a different story. I had to get her out of here. I carefully pulled us to our feet and wrapped an arm around her waist, not sure if she could support herself. I tried to tow her toward the mouth of the alley, but she was stuck fast. She was staring at Jacob's body, laying on the dirty ground, staring blankly at the sky. "Shouldn't we stay?" she finally said, her first words since the incident. "I mean we can't leave him. The police…"
"Bella," I cut her off. "It's not the police I'm worried about. They might buy our story. However, your husband worked for Al Capone, and he was going to use him to get leverage on the city council. If he finds out that that we killed Jacob, we're as good as dead. We have to get out here."
She nodded, a little less woodenly than before, and allowed me to guide her back out to the street. I checked to make sure no one was around to see us and then headed away from the speakeasy. The cops would be crawling all over the place by now. I didn't want us to be seen. It would be better if we just disappearedfor a little while.
We would be wanted now, if not by the police, than definitely by Capone and his organization. I need to get us somewhere safe, and hidden—somewhere where we could think and figure out what to do next. I couldn't take Bella to her home. She was in no shape to face the police who were surely going to be there soon.
I found myself slowly making my way back to my apartment. At least there we could get dry and sort things out. I didn't know what our future would hold now. Never in all my dreams did I think things would go the way they did tonight. Still, I had Bella with me now, and I wasn't going to let her go. I would be there with her every step of the way. I would find a way to protect her and provide for her.
I felt Bella stumble next to me, and I strengthened my grip around her waist to provide her more support. "We're almost there, love. Not much longer," I whispered gently in her ear. I felt her nod against my shoulder. "I love you, Bella. I promise it will be okay." And with those words, we made our way through the wet streets of Cicero toward an uncertain future—but a future together.
AU: Yeah, yeah, I don't own Twilight. Stephiene Meyer owns all. *cries*
Just a couple of breif things. One, my beta, State of Delusion, is a life safer. She peractly wrote those last couple of paragraghs when I couldn't figuare out how to end it. This wouldn't be anywhere near as good as it is without her.
Two, the reason I chose the 1920's is two fold. (or three fold, I was watching Water for Elephants when I heard about the contest so sue me.) Part of it was that I've been fascinated by Prohibation ever since Public Enemies came out, (my love for Johnny Depp is eclipsed only by my love for a certian tall, gray-blue eyed brit.) The other was the jazz. I love classic jazz. This story is greatly inspired by the beautiful sometimes happy, sometimes blues works that were written around that time. In fact The One I Love (Belongs to Somebody Else) was a song produced in 1924 by Isham Jones and Gus Kahn. (You can listen to that original version by Al Johnson here .com/watch?v=W2pVCKqLnXE&list=FLvfZMljLsVOcer8boQo3l_Q&index=3&feature=plpp_video) I was more inspired by two later versions, one by Frank Sinatra and another by Frank Sinatra and Tommy Dorsey, which is my favorite. There is also a version by Ella Fitzgerald. I would give any of those a try to really understand what Edward goes through and the world of the mid-twenties. Just go give jazz a try, its fantastic!