Age of Edward Contest
Title: The Trails End
Pen Name: stolenxsanity
Type of Edward: 1930's Heistward
Disclaimer: Twilight not mine, unfortunately. Neither is "The Trails End" poem. They belong to SMeyer and Bonnie Parker, respectively. This little gem, however, does belong to me.
Summary: Entry for the "Age of Edward" Contest. It's the 1930's and Edward's been front page news for years. With his dame, Isabella, no bank has been safe as they blazed the American trail, looting and thieving and falling deeper in love with every moment. They know their life on the run will inevitably come to an end, but all that truly matters is that they are together.
A/N: For starters, I absolutely need to thank Miss RAEcouterfor her awesome beta skills. BB, I cannot thank you enough for doing this for me. I puffy heart you something fierce, just saying. On another note, this little gem is based loosely on the lives of Bonnie & Clyde. Similarities are there, but I tried to keep it as close to canon-ExB characteristics as possible. The italicized excerpt within the story is a verse from Bonnie Parker's poem, "The Trails End." And last, due to not being able to properly format on FFn, I find that this reads better set at ½ page. It is, of course, completely up to you whether or not you choose to follow that advice, though.
"Some say they'll go down together
they'll bury them side by side.
To few it'll be grief,
to the law a relief.
But it's death for Bonnie & Clyde."
- The Trails End, a Poem by Bonnie Parker
[EPOV]
The newspaper that laid scattered across the table, its' edges frayed from the constant handling of it, rustled as I leaned back in my chair watching the beauty sleeping across the room. Her sleep talking had ended hours ago, but the expression of utter joy that still covered her face drew me in like a magnet. In sleep, she was innocent and uncorrupted, a young girl with dreams to fulfill and her entire life ahead of her. It was a striking contradiction to the dame who stood by my side, unloaded yet intimidating pistol in hand, as we heisted yet another bank. The working class public, barely making ends meet, loved us; the law wanted us dead. We were referred to by many as a modern day Robin Hood of sorts, stealing from the rich and distributing amongst the poor. Now 1934, the slump in the economy had elicited such thievery for quite some time. The Great Depression is what the new writers were referring to it as and none but the extremely wealthy – looking down on the world from their sprawling mansions with their old-money superiority as the rest of us scurried about like ants hording for the winter months – were safe from it.
My thoughts traversed the years, taking me back to the day I'd met Isabella Swan, stand-up citizen and only child of the towns late Sheriff. She had – without even knowing it – turned me from hardened criminal, with a penchant for taking on the law single-handedly, to a love struck fool mooning over a woman that I barely even knew. We met by chance in the late winter months of 1929 – January to be precise – while I was calling on my brother Jasper and his wife, Alice. It wasn't unusual for me to show up at their home unannounced. They'd taken to my sporadic drop-ins as only the family of a wanted fugitive could, with an ease that belied the shifting eyes, tight smiles, stilted greetings and rushed movements to close the door behind me. This particular visit had Alice even more high-strung than usual. She ushered me quickly into the kitchen, wrist bandaged tightly from a recent injury, and pulled the door to the front room closed with her good hand before I could catch a peek inside. Jasper had been seated at the table, a Camel dangling from the corner of his lips as he grinned lazily at me through the smoke that curled languidly about his face.
"Edward," he drawled out with a slight nod in my direction, taking a deep drag of his cigarette, and gestured to the chair opposite him. "What brings you calling this fine day?"
I took the proffered seat swiftly. Reaching over to snatch a smoke from the pack that lay between us, I regarded him with an arched eyebrow and the crooked smile that my mother had once predicted would break hearts across the country. "Can't I just pay my brother a visit when the mood strikes?" I finally asked, flicking the match deftly with the tip of my thumbnail to ignite it and inhaling deeply. "The little lady didn't seem pleased to see me today," I mused, tapping the table top rhythmically with my hand. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Now you know Alice loves entertaining guests." Humor suffused his voice as he swirled the ice around in the bottom of his tumbler. "Even if it is the likes of you, little brother. Which reminds me; Emmett and Rosalie are in town and will be stopping by for dinner tonight."
"Emmett and Rosalie," I murmured to myself, unsure about whether I should stick around for what was sure to be a great meal or get back on the road while it was still an option. "That could be a problem, Jas. We both know that Rosalie doesn't like me and won't trust me far as she could throw me; she'll have the coppers here quicker than I can blink."
Rosalie had always held me responsible for the trouble that Emmett – and Jasper, for that matter – got into before they'd been wed. She didn't care that it had happened before she'd met him or that he, being the oldest of the Cullen boys, had influenced Jasper and me. She wanted to blame someone and I became her scapegoat. Fortunately, Alice didn't share in these views and, though she and Rosalie got on fine, there had always been a bit of an edge in their interactions. They were literally day and night – in physicality and temperament – and it had proved to be a nearly unbridgeable gap. Alice was a friend to everyone – even the criminals like me who deserved so much less – while Rosalie only preferred the company of those who would bow to her every want and whim. Alice, as well as Jasper, didn't, and to that end, neither did I. Had it not been for Emmett's constant prodding, I'm sure she would spend the rest of her days ignoring the fact that he has a family and be happy about it. My obvious repulsion of her tactless and blunt approach spared me the need of seeking out her presence, even if that meant distancing myself from my own brother.
"Edward, Edward, Edward." Jasper's introspective tone cut through my internal ruminations and my eyes flashed to his, surprised by the depth of emotion they displayed. "I'm not entirely sure if it would be a good idea for you to stick around regardless. I know I've said that Alice loves entertaining and we've assured you countless times that we have no qualms with you stopping by; we love having you, even if it puts us in danger. That may be foolish on our parts, but you're family and if there's one thing that we've learned, one thing that has been instilled in us from our years of riding that thin line between vigilantes and criminal, it's that family sticks together no matter what."
I watched him warily, both enraged and properly chastised though no harsh words had left his mouth. I'd never verbalized or properly expressed my appreciation for the things they'd done for me, but I was grateful to have Jasper and Alice to depend on, though my proclivity for remaining in solitude would speak otherwise. To be turned away from the one place where I'd continually found acceptance and atonement for my crimes would be disheartening.
"What exactly are you trying to tell me? Don't weave words of partially concealed truths that are designed to keep me guessing; you know that I don't like games. There have never been any secrets between us before, so tell me what you're not saying and be done with it." I made to procure a glass from the side table while he handed me the decanter of Scotch, eyebrows furrowed in thought, which sat near enough to be smudged with residual cigarette ash.
"I never intended to make it sound as if I were hiding something from you. It's just –"
A resounding clatter from the adjoining room disrupted the moment as we both hastily made our way to investigate the noise. Hushed, apologetic whispers emanated through the paper thin walls, the voice melodious and airy, as the clamor stilled.
"Alice, darling," Jasper's voice broke through my concentration as we both stood outside the door, hands outstretched but hesitant. "Is everything okay in there?"
"Yes, Jasper, everything is –" oomph "– fine. Isabella just stumbled into the end table." Her voice was all light chuckles and humor as Jasper laughed softly beside me. "Don't worry, though, I'm sure the table got most of the damage."
"Oh Alice, honestly, I'm sorry. Let me get out of your way, there are far too many pretty, expensive things here; with my luck, I'll be stumbling into that china cabinet next. Besides, we both know that I'd be of much more use in the kitchen." Before Jasper or I had the chance to react, the door that we'd been hesitantly standing outside of flung open and a soft, warm body collided with my own. Instinctively, my hands shot out to prevent the inevitable fall and pulled the body to my own. An unwarranted gasp filled my chest quickly with delicious air as heat – all spark and electricity – surged up my arm, taking residence in my previously unacknowledged heart.
"Oh God, I'm so sorry. I'm an absolute klutz and completely uncoordinated in the best of times. I had no idea you all were still standing out here; please forgive me." The voice was muffled, but sweet as ever, as the girl Alice referred to as Isabella attempted to pull back quickly; face flushing a delightful crimson shade against her flawless, alabaster complexion. "Honestly, Jasper and Alice will vouch for my clumsiness and could tell you the most embarrassing stories if given half the chance."
"It's perfectly fine Miss –" My sentiment hung in the air between us, the need to be properly acquainted in every way possible causing my heart to palpitate erratically in my chest.
"Oh, where are my manners today. Swan, Isabella Swan." She wrung her hands together between us, nerves getting the best of her as she stood before me.
"Miss Swan," her surname rolled off my tongue smoothly, as if I'd known her all my life rather than the few minutes we'd been standing here. "I'm glad that I was here to prevent what was sure to be another fall." I felt my lips forming into a full, genuine smile as I took her in completely. Isabella was a tiny little thing, the top of her head hitting just below my chin, with extraordinarily deep chocolate colored eyes. Her hair – thick and long – curled sinuously down her back, the sunlight glinting off the golden amber hues. She was breathtaking in a way that I'd never experienced before. Innocence warred with subtle seduction as her mouth curled into a slight, bashful smile before she ducked her head down, peering at me through fluttering eyelashes.
"Thank you. For catching me, that is. I don't want to imagine what another meeting with the floor would've done to me." The blush colored her alabaster face again as she pulled her bottom lip in between her teeth. "I really should get started on dinner, though, I had no idea that Jasper and Alice were expecting more than two guests this evening and I wouldn't want to disappoint."
Her worried eyes flashed back to where my brother and his wife stood, watching us with intense curiosity, before meeting my gaze again. "I hope you don't find me rude or forward, as I've not quite been the picture of a proper upbringing today, but I didn't catch your name? I'm almost positive I've never seen you around here before, though I can't be sure because I'm rather new here myself. But, it's hard to miss anyone in a town this small." Her hands gestured towards the windows for a moment before dropping back to her side, eyes darting around the room anxiously.
Before I had a chance to respond, Jasper stepped between us lithely, clapping me on the shoulder with his large hand. "This is my younger brother, actually. He's just stopped by for a little visit while he's in town. One can never guess when he'll be at our door step, to be honest, but it's always great seeing him."
xXxXxXx
Streaks of sunlight peeked through the curtains, drawing me out of my thoughts and casting the room in its bright early morning light. My hands worked mechanically while cleaning the guns, keeping me relaxed and focused as I went over the day's plans. I worked out several different contingencies, repeating instructions back to myself in a low whisper. Nearly five years had passed since we'd begun doing this, side by side as we always would be, and I still worried for her safety, constantly questioned the decision I'd made to bring her into my world. I'd fought it, at first, desperate to keep her safe and as far from the gun-slinging and bank robbing as possible. I hadn't accounted for her mile long stubborn streak, though, and in the end she won out. It wasn't such a sacrifice for me; there was no place I'd rather have her than by my side. But she'd given up everything – her family, her life and dreams that could never become a reality now – to be with me. Forever, as she so aptly put it. I could deny her nothing, not even a glamorized life of crime, hiding in plain sight as the country documented daily every conceivable insinuation about our lives.
xXxXxXx
"I don't understand why I can't just go with you, Edward. It's not like I don't know who you are and I already told you that I don't care." Her eyes flashed, anger morphing into pain before she became rigid and expressionless as stone before me. "I was under the impression that you wanted to be with me but it seems that I was mistaken. And yet, here I stand, begging, looking like a damn fool."
We stood in the dining room, air tense around us, as I tried to make sense of what she'd said. She thought she was mistaken about me wanting her? Couldn't she see that, not only did I want her, but I needed her? If anyone felt the fool in this situation, it was me; corrupting someone so virtuous for my own selfish reasons. I wanted to keep her safe and far away from the career I'd chosen for myself, but all reasoning was forgotten as she watched at me from across the room, eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Is it so wrong for me to want, above anything else, to keep you safe? How can you not see how very much I do want you, Isabella? You deserve a better man than me, someone who can give you a family, stability and a good home. Why would you want to live the life that I live, always on the run from the law and never settling down?"
"Why is everyone else so keen on telling me what I do or do not deserve these days?" She sputtered out, her anger slowly losing steam. "In case you all haven't noticed, I'm perfectly capable of making my own choices and I choose you, Edward; nothing else matters."
"And if you choose differently in a year's time when you realize what it's really like out there, what then?" I wouldn't blame you if you did, though.
"Do you honestly believe that I'd be so fickle as to choose one thing now and decide later that because of what you do, it isn't worth my time? I know that you're particularly fond of thinking less of yourself because of it, but I don't share in those opinions."
Mere inches separated us, but it felt as if we were standing on either side of a chasm. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest, eyes flickering back and forth between my own and clouded with uncertainty. "I don't doubt that you know what you want now but you really don't know what you're asking of me or what you'd be getting yourself into. It's not easy – far from it, if I'm being honest. I only want the best for you and I think you'd be better suited for someone that could provide you with that. Living a life where you're constantly on the run … you are better than that."
Inconspicuously, Jasper stepped into the room and stood off to the side, silently observing us with his keen eye. I felt raw and exposed under their watchful gazes as I waited for the words of reproach that would undoubtedly ensue. A few moments passed quietly, tension thick in the air, before he released a sigh and shook his head.
"Excuse the interruption, Isabella, but would you mind if I had a moment with my brother." His tone held nothing but absolute respect, and for that I was grateful. He received a terse nod of acquiescence before taking me by the arm and leading me from the room, stopping only to make certain that the door was shut properly behind us.
"Edward, I know it's in your nature to protect others from the person you perceive yourself to be, and it's an admirable quality to possess. Unfortunately, it's also an annoying quality to possess. You've got a woman in there that loves you enough to want to subject herself to the lifestyle that you've chosen, and yet, you're pushing that away. I want to say that I don't understand it, but I do; more than you could possibly understand." A pause filled the air between us as he studied a painting of himself and Alice that hung from the wall.
"When I met Alice, the first thought that passed through my mind was that I'd do absolutely anything that she asked of me. And I have. If, at that time, she'd requested to be a part of what we had back then there's little doubt that I would have conceded to it. Instead, she asked me to put that all behind me. And, here we stand today. I have many regrets in life, brother, but I could never regret the decision I made to put Alice and her needs and wants before my own. She is my life and has been from the very beginning. You only find a love like that once in a lifetime, and you'd be a fool to walk away from it now."
"And you're happy?" My voice sounded rough; a short, strangled sound escaping my lips in a low whisper. It was too much to hope that maybe – maybe – I could be selfish and have her with me, always. But if it's what she wanted as well, could it really be considered as such?
"I could never be happier even if I tried. I have no life without her, and speaking from experience, you are certainly in the same predicament. You've had ample opportunity to walk away, like you're apt to do, but you haven't. She's holding you here whether you want to admit to it or not. Don't let your misguided sense of valor cloud your thoughts, Edward, you'll despise yourself even more if you do."
"You'll help me prepare her, you and Alice both? I just want to be sure that she understands fully and it wouldn't hurt to teach her a few tricks of the trade, even if the only way she'll ever use them is if I'm dead."
"Of course we will. Now get back in there and tell your woman the good news. Alice and I will be visiting with Emmett this evening and won't return until the morning." With a crooked smile that matched my own, he turned on his heel and headed for the back of the house.
xXxXxXx
I smiled at the memory of her intense reaction and set the guns aside for her to load when she awoke, a job she took to with extreme pleasure and unprecedented grace. The hour was still early and I was content with watching the expressions flicker across her face, a reaction to the dreams that were playing out in her mind. It was still difficult to believe that we'd met so many years ago, be it by coincidence or fate. I was most struck, however, that everything we'd been through together, her love and loyalty never once faltered. She may have considered me an enigma, but that title belonged solely to her; a walking contradiction of flowers and sunshine laced with gunpowder and lead.
I reveled in the love that we had both found in each other, against all odds, happy that Jasper had been convincing in his admonishments. If I'd never believed in true love and soul mates before, I certainly did now, and the eventual realization had been staggering. She was my other half, my balance in life. Despite her quirky mannerisms, the clumsiness that seemed to tempt fate constantly and her deep-seated stubbornness that, against all logic, often took precedent, Bella kept us moving forward, working harder and loving better. Jasper had been right, all those years ago, with his veiled implications that she was my life. I could, if the need ever struck, walk away from everything that I'd become before her because I was nothing without her.
xXxXxXx
"Today was a good day," she mused quietly, fingers tapping at the dashboard as we sped off down the road in search of yet another place to sleep for the night. "I didn't even get a chance to show off this time; they were piling the money up for us so fast." Her musical laugh filled the car, head thrown back against the seat and eyes closed tight in joy. I couldn't help but smile at her cheerful form, energized by her reaction to what we'd just done. How I'd found someone so accepting was beyond me, but I was certainly thankful.
"You wanted to show off?" Humor filled my voice and my smile grew when she met my eyes, her own twinkling with elation.
"Of course I did. You didn't think I let you teach me how to properly hold and aim a gun for the fun of it do you?"
"I suppose not, Mrs. Cullen," my hand reached out to grasp hers, thumb rubbing across the ring that adorned her finger compulsively. "I just never figured you for the attention-seeking kind."
"There you go again with that 'Mrs. Cullen' business. For the last time, Mr. Cullen, please call me by my given name; you're making me feel older than my years."
I laughed heartily at her quick and witty response, squeezing her hand tighter at the influx of love and adoration I felt for her. "You and I both know that you barely look a day over twenty, Isabella. Now, if you don't mind, stop with your distracting or we'll never make it to the ranch by sundown." The remainder of the car ride was spent in quiet contemplation, neither of us needing the mindless chatter that other couples preferred, as we drove down the dust-filled back roads.
With a faint glow still illuminating the sky, we pulled into the long, winding, driveway of a ranch house that I'd managed to acquire from a friend of a friend. He had needed the money renting this place out would provide – much like many others that had been affected by the collapse of the economy – and didn't ask questions or demand specifics like most others would have. My gratitude, in turn, was shown in dollars and discretion. Any details pertaining to the who, what and why of our arrangement would subject our benefactor to a danger I refused to leave at his doorstep. It was bad enough that I'd put my own family in such a precarious position, not to mention my wife, and neither of us could bear to bring the law down on anyone else for being kind enough to assist us.
Though slightly fatigued, adrenaline from the day's heist still coursed through my body so I quickly extracted myself from the get-away wagon and rounded on the passenger side before Isabella – or Bella, as I'd taken to calling her when we were alone – had gotten her seat belt unbuckled. I opened her door with the zeal of a man whose patience had run aground, pulling her slight frame from the seat and crushing her body to mine as I peppered kisses along her jaw line. Despite the passing of time, my desire for her had never waned and our illicit, immoral and generally dangerous line of work heightened those feelings exponentially.
"Edward, we need to get in the house first. This is hardly proper and I'm certain that you're far too much the gentleman to take me against a car." A feral growl rumbled through my chest as I considered her words. Natural instinct raged against my baser, primal nature as I moved my hands to grip her hips and slowed my kisses along her face.
"You really shouldn't have said that," I whispered, essentially panting my hot breath against her ear. "I was indeed raised to be that proper gentleman you speak of, but I'm sure I could make an exception for tonight if you insist on toying with me, Isabella." Her tiny hands latched on to the back of my neck, gripping the hair at my nape snugly, as she breathed heavily.
Moving my mouth slowly, I kissed down the length of her neck, stopping at the juncture to suck lightly at her pulse point. "Do you really want me to stop?" My fingers dug into her harder as I fought the urges that ran through me. "Because if you do, it's best if you tell me now." I resumed the fiery trail my mouth insisted on traveling, sliding the edge of her top aside as I ventured lower. I could feel her fingernails digging almost painfully into my back, clutching and clawing at me in silent concession.
"Say it, Bella. I can't read your mind no matter how much I wish I could." Please don't tell me to stop, I begged internally, not positive that I could even if she asked. "Tell me if this isn't okay because I won't be able to stop on my own."
"Don't stop." Her breath was ragged and forced as she fought to keep it steady, head dropping back with the intensity of what I was making her feel. "Please don't stop."
I shifted my stance, returning my lips to hers as I lifted her legs around my waist, pressing her harder into the car. Grasping the hem of her skirt, the backs of my fingers traced up every inch of her creamy skin until they reached soft cotton. Her own fingers fumbled with the clasp of my pants clumsily in her haste. The idea that she wanted – no, needed – this every bit as much as I did, in any fashion possible, spun me out of control.
I removed her under garments abruptly, tearing them from her frenetically; abandoning all propriety in my fierce need to feel her around me. A labored groan escaped her lips, breath heavy and eyes lidded with lust and desire. Her arousal permeated the air around us – potent and inebriating – unleashing the animal within me that years of proper upbringing righteously insisted I keep caged. Somewhere in the midst of our tangled, rushed groping she had succeeded in releasing me from the confines of my trousers, pushing them down with the heels of her feet so they rested around my calves.
My head fell to her shoulder and I licked at the exposed skin, her sweet taste encapsulating me wholly; sweat mixed with a flavor that was all Bella – strawberries and sunshine – caused an explosion on my tongue. Her incoherent pleas brought me back to myself and I attacked her mouth frantically as I thrust into her, sheathing myself in the warm wetness between her thighs. One hand rested beside her head, the other around her hip; fingers sinking into her soft flesh in an effort to keep myself grounded.
The sounds of mumbled overtures, uncontrolled whimpers and skin meeting skin surrounded us. My mouth locked around her nipple – already pebbled from the cool night air – sucking and nipping at the skin sporadically, fraught with an almost irrational need to draw this pleasure out and bring it to a crashing crescendo at the same time. I sought my release rabidly, lost in a haze of complete, unadulterated, lust as I continued to move within her. Fingernails dug into my scalp roughly – gripping and clutching – as she pulled at the roots of my hair, crying out into the night sky and begging for more with every heated moan. Minutes passed us by while we remained locked in our passionate and primal embrace, sticky with the perspiration that clung to us. I could feel her inner walls contracting around me and I sped up my movements infinitesimally, wanting to see her fall over the edge that she was teetering on.
"Oh, Ed-uhhh-ward!" Her muscles clamped down around me, the cool night breeze whipping the delicate gasps for air from her throat. I came into her with a strangled cry as her face contorted into a look of utter satisfaction. Her name fell from my lips in a chant, repeatedly and breathlessly, as I collapsed onto her spent body.
xXxXxXx
The sound of metal clinking against metal invaded my senses and I opened my eyes to see the woman I'd just been thinking about loading the guns that I'd just cleaned. Her eyes were introspective as she continued working, oblivious to my watchful gaze. Even right out of bed, she was the most breathtaking creature that I'd ever laid eyes on and I couldn't help the sigh escaped my lips. Hearing me, she stopped what she was doing and looked up, a smile taking over her face, still flushed from sleep.
"Good morning," I murmured, reaching across the table to take her hand. "Are you ready for today?"
She nodded at my inquiry, squeezing my fingers quickly before continuing on with her task. "Aren't I always ready?" She asked, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Today is like any other day despite your superstitions about my writings."
"That is true, I suppose. Would you mind if I went to shower now? You're almost done here and I'd like to get on the road as quickly as possible, if that's alright?"
"Of course, Edward. I'll be done here in a moment and I'll take my shower soon as you're done." With a kiss on the cheek, I took my leave from her and made my way to the washroom, our discussion from late the previous evening assaulting my mind.
Before the exhaustion had taken its' toll on us, Isabella had been high from our earlier heist, eyes glinting wildly with unspoken emotions. I recalled the way she'd looked – mahogany hair framing her face in absolute disarray from our earlier encounter against the car – as she sat hunched over her notebook, pencil flying furiously across the pages. She had a talent and passion for writing that she lacked in almost anything else, with the exception of our relationship, and our eventful days typically ended this way.
Last night, however, had been tangibly different. The change could be felt in the air, suffusing the room with its' oppressive presence. Ethereally, the moon had sat high in the sky, basking the room in its' iridescent glow and lending her an otherworldly beauty; almost angelic. I had never felt the need to see what it was that grasped Bella's attention so completely, granting her the privacy that she deserved in the only pastime she had that called for it. What had indicated such a true difference last night, however, had been the near desperation of her actions; the entire outside world set adrift in the wake of her urgent pursuits. It had frightened me in ways that I'd never experienced before, not even in the face of almost certain death.
The sounds of the water running, cascading over each if my taut muscles that surged with the anticipation of the day ahead, paired with the references to her writing brought back the memories of what I'd done while she'd showered the night before. Bella had completed whatever entry she'd been diligently working on without her usual flourish and theatrics designed to gain my attention. Her mood had turned somber as she excused herself to the washroom, preparing to follow her nightly routine, before joining me in bed. With one ear trained on the sounds emanating through the thin wall, I'd scurried to the table, taking the book containing everything intrinsically Bella back to bed with me. I flipped through the pages, slowly at first, the slight rustling unnaturally loud in the otherwise quiet room. Sloppily jotted down notes filled the margins and hastily scrawled out text, crossed out and written over, made it difficult to find where one poem began and another ended. Ink blots stained the surface and deep indentations marked the spots where she'd written with more vigor, pressing into the paper with unnecessary force to get her thoughts across sufficiently. Guilt surged through me, just like it had in the dim light of our room last night, as I remembered hastily scanning each page unsure of what to expect.
So utterly absorbed was I in the words that had bled into each other, filling the once empty space with heart wrenchingly beautiful prose, that I hadn't heard the click of the door or the soft padding of her feet against the cold hardwood floor until she was standing right beside me. I'd watched as she tugged on the sleeves of her nightdress randomly, face contorted in worry, shame and subtle anger as she watched me peruse her deepest thoughts. I had been speechless. For what was probably the first time in my life, I'd had no words to describe the bitter cold feeling that had crept into my chest, tearing unrestrained at my heart. Even now, rinsing off in the now lukewarm spray of water, her written declarations ran through my head repetitively, branding themselves onto my brain without consent.
They don't think they're too smart or too desperate,
They know that the law always wins.
They've been shot at before;
But they do not ignore,
That death is the wages of sin.
I knew, logically, that my actions over the years had brought considerably dangerous repercussions on me – us – and until now, with it staring me in the face so blatantly, I had been able to push these realities to the back of my mind. There was no room for constant worry or fear and as the soft cotton towel moved over every pane of my body, calming anything that had slipped through the cracks, I was well aware that one day we would reap what we'd sown. It was inevitable. I'd accepted this fate long ago, years before I'd met Isabella and had the added stress of caring for another being, one that I loved with all that I had. Her opinion – completely unbridled by the need to be censored – had brought everything to the forefront of my mind; a glaring spotlight on things that I'd blocked out or unintentionally overlooked in the past.
My apologies had been stilted the previous night when I'd attempted to articulate my thoughts verbally, my fear for her life having eliminated the ability to think clearly and rationally. I'm sorry had been a poor reflection for the turmoil of despair and uncertainty that I still felt, but that hadn't made it any less true. It had never been my intention to put her – my Bella – in danger and it wasn't in my nature to stop beating myself up over it. The reassurances that she had uttered came back to me then, filling my heart with even more adoration for her.
"Oh, Edward." My name was a love-filled sigh, caressing me like only her voice could as she relaxed from her rigid pose, crawled into her side of our sandwiched twin beds and cuddled up beside me. "There's nothing to forgive. I've never –" Her soft, warm hands encircled mine, removing the book and placing it at the foot of the bed. "I don't regret any of it, and I never will. Why would I when it's brought me you and such an amazing love that I'd never have experienced otherwise?"
"I don't regret any of it either," I promised her. "And I never will."
Her name fell from my lips in a breathy whisper full of pain and regret as I gripped the counter top. Finding my eyes in the foggy vanity mirror and meeting them squarely, I finally considered the consequences of our injustices. I'd brought her along – willing participant or not – on this whirlwind of a ride that could only end in death and disaster. Yes, I'd come to terms with our future, or lack thereof, even if just subconsciously. What I couldn't do, however, was live without Bella. She had my every moment's meaning wrapped up in the curve of her smiling lips, the stumble of her two left feet and the love radiating from every glance of her all-seeing, ever-conveying eyes. If she ever ceased to exist, my life would no longer have meaning, so I understood her words. It had been a willing and worthy sacrifice on both our parts.
And I knew without a doubt – or the superfluous need to reassure this criminal's reflection – that when the world came crashing down on us, in a hail of gunfire and smoke, we would be together and that was what mattered most. Heaven or hell was relative; Isabella's arms were my eternity.
A/N: I hope that you enjoyed this. I struggled through writing it, and I'm worried that I didn't live up to my expectations. I'd really appreciate it if you'd leave your thoughts via review and let me know what you think. BTW, I could not get Bon Jovi's "Wanted Dead or Alive" and "Blaze of Glory" out of my head as I wrote this. I'm not sure if that's a good or bad thing, yet.