Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, songs, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
I knew time was of the essence, but I did not want to leave that hot shower. The only time I got to take a good shower was either in the communal shower at a shelter or at mom's apartment, which was shared with the whole floor. There were two women and a dude who couldn't help but walk in on me every fucking time my towel dropped. You'd think I'd be adjusted to the lack of shower privacy by now, but I wasn't.
That shower was the best fifteen minutes of the whole fucking year. Alice came in, left the clothes and shoes and discreetly left, leaving me a note on the foggy mirror to get a jacket from the coat check girl.
I made my way back to the main area which was quickly filling with partygoers. I hadn't seen Swan or Black anywhere. Lucky for them. Maybe they were in the offices, getting ready to ruin someone else's life.
I couldn't help but be a little curious as to what the announcement was. As much as I wished for it, it was unlikely that they were going to confess what a bunch of assholes they really were or anything. Maybe they were going to announce a new saline breast implant division of the company and name it after Princess Isabella. Bitch.
I found the coat check area easily enough but couldn't find the coat check girl. I didn't have time to wait for her. I didn't want Alice to get into trouble for the absent pianist. So I looked around and headed through the doors of the coat closet. It was about the same size as my mom's entire apartment.
It didn't take long for me to hear them. They were loud enough that they didn't hear me enter. Any other day, I would've sat down and had me a little aural fixation. But the fact that two rich snobs were back here going at it made me fucking sick.
Then again, maybe I could get some dirt on who was fooling around. If I found out it was illegitimate… the possibilities were only too sweet to imagine. So I decided to wait in the dark.
"Please…" She moaned. "Not there… you can… here… not there."
"Just fucking let me." He growled.
Jackpot. Princess Isabella Swan and Prince Jacob Black. That was all I needed. I could just quietly exit, and wait for the right time to tell the press, if I was I so inclined.
"No," she squeaked. "I don't want…" My hackles went up instinctively at the desperate inflection of her voice, regardless of whose voice it was.
"I'm a fucking millionaire and you're telling me no? Who do you think you are?" He hissed.
"You think being a millionaire makes it okay?" Her voice cracked at her defiance yet became somehow smaller. "I'm a millionaire too and I said no." I heard someone take a few rough steps and then heard a thud. A small whimper escaped Isabella's mouth. "My daddy…"
"Your daddy doesn't give a shit about you." He said it in such a straightforward manner that even I didn't doubt him.
The ache his words brought to my chest was almost more than I could bear. No one should be made to feel that low. I knew how it felt. And I'd had enough. I cleared my throat and turned on the closet lights.
"Excuse me sir, are you the coat attendant?" I asked Heir Turd, attempting to play as clueless as possible.
"Who the fuck are you?" He eyed me up and down, assessing my importance based on my half assembled tuxedo. "I'm Jacob Black, not some menial coat check clerk. Now get the fuck out."
I looked at her then, shoved between thousand dollar coats, back against the wall, and what I saw wasn't the Ice Queen I thought I knew. Instead, I got the briefest glimpse of a terrified little girl. Regardless, my heart turned back to marble with the realization that these two's problems weren't my own, no matter how Jacob's words made me feel. I pushed down the dull ache I felt at the sight of her and chalked it up to pity or resentment or some shit.
She shook her head, ever so slightly, which indicated that she was scared to be left alone with him. That one little gesture melted me all over again. The values my parents instilled in me all came rushing to the surface. No means no. A woman should never be treated this way. Her eyes continued to plead. She was half his size, if I left… I stopped the thought before it could go any further.
"Ms. Swan, Elise would like your opinion on something the chef is serving, if you could accompany me to the kitchen?"
All of a sudden, Junior was in my face, screaming obscenities, as he tried to use his bulk to back me into a corner. I held my ground. "If you knew who the fuck she was then you sure as hell knew who the fuck I was! You're just the help, no one gives a fuck about you!"
In an attempt to placate him as she struggled to right herself, she cooed, "Jacob, everything needs to be perfect for Daddy's announcement tonight. I will go with… Ed… err… him, and make sure of it. I will meet you later. You have to talk to the board of governors anyway."
"Fuck that. You are with me tonight." He glared at her, looking for all the world like the next time they met in a dark place, she was going to get the shit kicked out of her. Then he looked at me. His distaste was evident, as was mine.
Tired of waiting for him to be chivalrous, I offered her my hand. She took it reluctantly, staring at me the whole time. As soon as her small hand was secure in mine, she changed demeanor from frightened child to socialite heiress in no time flat.
"Really, Jacob. I'll be right behind you. You have business to attend to. Let me just go see what the Chef needs, then I'll find you."
Junior glared at me again and walked out. As soon as he was out the door, we simultaneously realized that she was still holding my hand. I went to drop it, but she held on for a moment longer. "I'm sorry."
"Yeah," I said lamely. "Wait, why?"
"I'm not sure, but thank you."
"Look, I'm just in here to get a jacket, so don't go thinking I came in here to rescue you or anything." Damnit, I wished she'd stop looking at me that way. I couldn't forget the reason I was really here—to save my family.
"Well you did anyways, so thank you." She shrugged a little, like it was no big deal. Junior could have been moments away from seriously hurting her; I had to do something. I tried to shake off her reaction.
"Whatever. I'll just get the coat and walk you out." I started looking around at where Alice might've set something aside for me.
"Alice usually keeps the tuxedo jackets back here," she waved her arm down the length of the closet. "Come on, I'll show you." She started toward the back of the closet. As she did, I took a real look at her. She really was beautiful. All those rag-mags make her look horrible, comparatively speaking.
I realized something then and had to call her on it, out of sheer curiosity. "Why would you call her Elise to her face while all along knowing her name was Alice?"
"My persona," she replied simply as she sized me up to find an appropriately sized jacket. Before I could manage a retort, she spoke, "Why did you stop smelling like ass?" Her slim fingers moved across the fabric of the jackets, coming to rest on one that she pulled out to look over. After wrinkling her nose, she put it back.
"Why, did you prefer it?" She looked at me, and rolled her big brown eyes. "Fine. Because I was told to and I'm playing piano instead of standing in the men's restroom all night."
"Do you always do as you're told?" She finally found one that seemed to satisfy whatever predetermined criteria she had and pulled it out.
"You know, I don't have to take this." I wasn't about to be belittled by her condescending attitude.
"Actually, you do. We're paying you to be the help, are we not?" She held the jacket up for me and I reluctantly turned around to slide my arms through the silk-lined sleeves.
If she was going to demean me, I was going to reciprocate by labeling her. "Fine, Your Majesty. How may I serve you?"
"Kiss me," she whispered in my ear, commanding me to obey and leaving no room for me to question.
It took me a fraction of a second to comprehend her order, a fraction more to understand it, and another half a second to take action. I spun on my heels and laced my fingers around her neck. I was furious that she was demanding this, and even more furious that I was giving her what she wanted, especially after the encounter with Little Black. I was beyond furious that I so easily succumbed to her demands and equally shocked to realize I wanted it for myself as well.
I poured my pent up fury into that kiss, and grabbed her perfectly-styled hair back to tilt her face up towards mine. I scraped her lips and tongue with my teeth in my desire to fulfill her demand. I hadn't kissed anyone like that, ever. I was pissed and didn't care that I might be hurting her. After I consumed her mouth I went to bite her neck, hoping to leave a mark she wouldn't be able to hide.
"That's it… I like it… rough." Her voice broke, choking on her tear-tinged whisper, which released me from my angry trance and brought me back with a jolt that felt like lightning striking my body. I dropped her and backed to the opposite end of the suddenly stifling closet. I hadn't even remembered picking her up.
"I… don't…" I whimpered. I was never rough with anyone. That was wrong. Very wrong. This was all going wrong. Why the fuck would I do that? To her? To anyone?
Let's just throw self-disgust on the list of this evening's accomplishments.
"Of course you do. All men do," she spat at me. She turned away then, which hurt me much more than she could know and more than I could anticipate.
"I do not," I said, more loudly. My words were laced with anger, the very emotion I needed to cap. "You don't know me." I started to think I didn't even know myself. Why was I even kissing her in the first place?
Her own voice became forceful as she turned back to glare at me. "Then why did you think it was okay? Because Jacob thought it was okay?" She waved her small hand at me. "You're all alike."
Fuck. She had a point. I had let my anger, my hatred of her family take control, and it totally dictated my actions. Humbled and ashamed, I started, "I'm… I'm sorry… tonight isn't going very well… and…"
"Then by all means, take it out on me. Someone who you only presume to know, just like everyone else. If there is one thing you'll learn tonight, Edward, it's that you… don't… know… me!"
Alice opened the closet door then, just as Isabella rushed out. Part of me wanted to go after her, make her understand that my actions were completely out of character and apologize. Maybe even tell her—even though it fucking pained me to admit it—that she was right: I didn't know her. I shouldn't assume anything, especially if her assumptions of men all revolve around violent tendencies.
I took a step forward, but Alice was in my way. She stood there, and glared at me with her hands on her hips. "I'm so glad you found your jacket. Now get out there, play, and stop trying to get me fired!" I couldn't tell how much she had or hadn't seen from her tone. I hoped for the latter.
I hung my head and ran my fingers through my hair trying to sort through my jumbled thoughts. One question in particular seemed to weigh heavier than the others, though I hadn't picked it out of the mess yet. I took a deep breath and tried desperately to collect myself. Then, suddenly it was clear. "Al, did you tell her my name?" I asked her urgently. She shook her head vehemently, probably worried what my reaction would be if she had. How did I become someone people were afraid of? "Well, she knows it, somehow." I couldn't begin to wonder where she picked it up.
"Knock it off, Edward. If she really knew who you were and your last name, there is no way in hell you'd still be here." She took me by the elbow and pulled me out of the coat closet. "Play classical musical only, quietly. There is a microphone, but no singing."
As we walked from the closet to the stage area, I rubbed my hands together to warm them, forgetting that they were still warm from my encounter with Isabella. My hands weren't the only thing that was warm. My whole body was very warm, vibrating in anticipation. It'd been months since I'd sat down to play.
I tried using the shelter's piano a few times, but it was so out of tune that sitting to play would make me feel worse. I wanted to play in the lobby of the hospital, but they wouldn't allow mom to leave her hospital room. We both knew it would help her feel better. The doctors didn't want to listen.
Alice was right next to me, escorting me to the piano. "I got it, Al. You can go now."
We stopped in front of the baby grand and she turned to me. "Do you really know what you're doing? I have a keen sense of when something is going to go wrong and that's the direction you've been taking since you stepped onto the elevator." She paused, considering. "Okay, I'm going to make this not about me and my job anymore and remind you that you're here for a reason." I nodded at her in agreement. "You will play for about twenty minutes before the pianist arrives. I suggest you check out the forty-eighth floor during your break. Use the stairs." I wanted to hug her for giving me the nugget of information I needed to start my search.
She was absolutely right. I was going to use this time at the piano to think of my plan of attack. Nothing else. I was here to exonerate my father, not think about some privileged heiress or the things I had done to her mere moments before.
With slight trepidation, I sat down at the piano. Part of me wanted to rejoice that I was getting to play this beautiful instrument and the rest of me was battling the fear that I had somehow forgotten how. Gingerly, I reached out a finger to touch one of the ivory keys. The rest of my fingers soon followed.
The keys of the piano felt so cool and smooth beneath my fingertips. The anxiety I was feeling moments before melted away as soon as my fingers made contact. I sat there for a few moments, soaking in the feeling. The first ten seconds sitting on that bench blew the fifteen minutes in the shower out of the water. This felt right, like I was exactly where I belonged. For the first time in months I felt in control of something. I played as softly as I could manage, but really, I wanted to just unleash it. I didn't want to play elevator music; I wanted to play the blues. Soulful, aching, sexy, deep blues.
As fmy mind settled into auto pilot, I began to concentrate on what was next. As soon as the pianist arrived, I'd head for the stairs and go up to the office floor. I figured I'd have about forty-five minutes before needing to return to play again. Hopefully, I'd be able to find dad's original memos. Then I realized what a company like Black Swan must use for a file archiving system and the levels of protection surrounding it and began to taste the bitterness of utter defeat.
I looked up just in time to see Charles Swan and William Black make their grand entrance. All around people began clapping. What the fuck for? I considered playing the Darth Vader entrance music before thinking better of it.
Immediately behind their fathers, walked Isabella and Jacob. Isabella looked as if she'd rather be anywhere other than here. That was not the same Princess I remembered seeing in the tabloids. She seemed smaller, more fragile. She'd lost her swagger. This wasn't even the girl I met in the coat room minutes ago. She looked completely defeated and hopeless. I knew hopelessness when I saw it, mostly in my own reflection.
For some reason, her eyes found mine right then, the sadness apparent. But she wasn't upset with me anymore evidently, or she would've looked away. Rather, she seemed to be pleading with me; the same look she used after Black forced himself on her in the closet. I had rescued her then; perhaps I could do it again. The thought invaded my mind before I could stop it, taking root and almost overruling the weak plans I had to try and salvage my family.
Then it struck me. Perhaps she was in the dark about the real reason for the evening's festivities and had just found out herself. Her expression suggested it. Little Black stood on the other side of his father, looking smug. Like he'd just found out the news too but would fare far better as a result.
Their fathers were the same arrogant-looking bastards that they always were. They didn't even show up to trial when they sued my father to within an inch of his existence. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised that Little Black is the way he is, but I was surprised that there appeared to be something more to Isabella.
After the applause died down, the mingling commenced and Isabella slowly made her way over towards me. My pulse sped up. This was a social taboo, the royalty mixing with the serfs. I had no idea what she was up to, but I was going to play by the rules and not look at her anymore. I would have to wait to figure out how to help her once I knew what was wrong. Until then I lowered my chin, focusing on the piano.
I could sense she was behind me before I heard her speak. When she finally spoke in my ear, it made my hands shake, screwing up my finger placement. I hit a few wrong keys, the sound screaming in my head. I hoped no one else noticed. I realized my hands weren't shaking with rage, like before. I held them as steady as I could to keep from drawing more attention to us. This type of hand shaking was new, foreign.
"What do you say about having a little fun with my family?" she whispered in my ear as she sat beside me on the bench, her back to the keys. I kept my eyes down. She was the one choosing to defy societal mores here, not me, but her words tempted me more than they should.
"What do you have in mind?" I snuck a glance at her out the corner of my eyes, as I tried to keep my enthusiasm cloaked. Her eyes were sad, but her face showed mischief, especially her lips.
"Do you know any blues, Edward? I know a slide guitar would be more appropriate for this song, but…" Wait. She likes the blues? Or does she know that I live for the blues? I was immediately reminded of Alice saying that if she knew who I was and what I was doing there, I'd be out on my ass. She had to know more than she was letting on.
My fingers hesitated for a second before I picked up again. Should I make a run for it now? Before she can call in the wolves? Should I take my chances on the forty-eighth floor or accept defeat and go home?
Or should I trust her, this girl I thought I understood, but obviously did not?
Again, I realized that I was taking a chance and breaking my own damn rule that I'd just made by even hearing her out. I was going to draw attention to myself by being part of her fun. Yet, something was pulling me in. For whatever reason I just couldn't deny her. "Song?" I asked with a heavy sigh, hoping I wouldn't regret this decision.
"Easy," she replied. "'Nobody's Girl.'"
I had never tried to combine that Bonnie Raitt song with classical music before but I was sure as hell going to try. I transitioned easily from the fluff I was playing into the introduction. I didn't know why she wanted to hear it, but perhaps it would make her feel better. If she wanted to have a little fun at the expense of her family, I was all for it.
It was very difficult for me to sit there, beside her, and not sing the song. I couldn't be passive when playing the blues. It was an unusual request, but not half as unusual as what happened next.
She began singing along. Softly, so only I could hear. With an achingly beautiful, clear voice.
She don't need anybody to tell her she's pretty
She's heard it every single day of her life
He's got to wonder what she sees in him
When there's so many others standing in line
She gives herself to him but he's still on the outside
She's alone in this world
She's nobody's girl
There was no way in hell that she should not have been singing more loudly, so I got her attention and nodded towards the microphone. She hesitated, but only until I smiled encouragingly. She took it from the stand and stood before continuing, moving to seat herself on the piano's top before facing me again.
With a start, I realized she was singing for me, not the forming crowd. I was baffled. I wasn't able to wrap my head around it.
She does anything she wants any time she wants to
With anyone you know she wants it all
Still she gets all upset over the least little thing
Man you hurt her it makes you feel so small
And she's a walking contradiction
But I ache for her inside
She's fragile like a string of pearls, she's nobody's girl
There was a smattering of applause that sounded slightly confused by what just transpired, but the smile she gave in acknowledgment was only for me. Before I knew what I was doing, I found myself applauding right along with everyone else. She had an extraordinarily sultry voice, beyond anything I'd heard coming from Julliard. Perfect for the blues.
Then, like a storm cloud coming to shit on our parade, Swan, Black and Scumball Junior approached the stage at the same time that the pianist came to relieve me. It was time for the announcement; she knew it and went rigid, the serenity draining from her face. Little Black, the fucker, put his hands on her waist and helped her down from the piano. She was openly repulsed at his touch.
I found Alice just off the stage and moved towards her. She looked at me apologetically, then said, "Everyone is here, it's a good time for you to go." I agreed and headed towards the stairs. I hesitated before opening the door and turned towards the stage. As much as it pained me to admit it, I had to know what all the damn fuss was about.
Daddy Black took the microphone from Isabella and was the first to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen, stockholders, board of governors. You've been kept in suspense for weeks now as to what our announcement tonight might be." He handed the microphone to Daddy Swan, who beamed at the crowd.
"Young Jacob here approached me a few months ago, asking for my Princess Isabella's hand in marriage." Raucous applause spread through the area until he spoke over the noise. "I did him one better and gave our blessing, on behalf of her mother too, God rest her soul."
I hadn't rescued her in that closet. I'd interrupted the consummation of their engagement. Why had she asked me to kiss her? What a fucking tramp. The tabloids were all true.
I looked at her standing there. She was just like the rest of her fucking family, no different. Why had I allowed her to play me? What the fuck was I thinking? As I looked at her standing on the small stage, her smile was as well rehearsed and as fake as her tits. She searched the crowd for someone and her eyes stopped as she met mine. Her eyes shone with tears. But those were probably fake, too. Crocodile tears.
I walked through the door, just as I heard Jackass Junior take the microphone. "I proposed to her a half hour ago, in the coat check closet, of all places!" Fuckers. The lot of them. Especially her. Deceptive, conniving.
What was I thinking? I was ashamed of myself. I'd allowed myself to be distracted from the mission at hand. My anger broke through the wall I'd put it behind. I swear in that moment I saw red. I took a deep breath, trying to get a grip.
With renewed determination, I made it to the office floor and slowly opened the door, realizing immediately that there was a security desk and two armed guards. Of course. Of fucking course. This is how it works now. Sonofafuckingbitch. I let the door close softly and hoped that they didn't hear or see me.
I had no idea what to do now. Alice couldn't have had any idea about the security when she told me where to look. I felt my resolve start to crack. To come this far for answers and be unable to go any further was a kick to the nuts. Hell, it was like having them ripped off.
I wanted to fall on the floor and cry, but I didn't let myself. I needed to unleash this anger that burned so bright in my soul somehow. I turned around to punch something—my eyes settled on the cinder block wall. It would do just fine. Broken knuckles would cap the night off great.
I pulled my fist back, ready to let the wall have it, only to abruptly drop it again.
She was standing right there.
"What the fuck, Princess!" I was jumpy and punch drunk. My hands found my messy hair and buried themselves in it. If I couldn't assault the wall, I could at least tear out a few handfuls of hair to feel something else. Anything else.
Then I realized I could've accidentally punched her, sending her toppling down the stairs behind her. I suddenly remembered that earlier this evening I had wanted to punch her, just not accidentally. That thought made me sicker than anything else had all night.
"My name is not Princess… it's Bella." She tried, momentarily, to keep her tough shell in place before bursting into tears. The kind of tears that usually embarrassed the fuck out of me. This time, all I wanted to do was comfort her despite my hatred of her family, what they had done to my family, and what she was doing to me now.
Then I realized deep down I knew they were doing the same thing they'd done to my family to her, their own flesh and blood. She would not fare well in her marriage. If he gave her a ring, she wasn't wearing it.
Goddamnit.
Goddamnit! Damn her for making me feel these things!
I looked at her, my anger dissolving as soon as my eyes found her face. Her eyes were closed as I reached out to comfort her but caught myself, thankful that some part of my mind was still functioning properly, and snapped my hand back. "What are you doing here?"
Her sobs and shudders lessened just enough for her to speak. "I needed to get out of there, and figured you'd be here."
"Shouldn't you be celebrating your engagement?" I spat, hoping to sound as upset as I felt. "Why do you care where I am?" I made a move to brush past her, and get the fuck out of here.
"Because I want to help you." Her answer stopped me mid-stride.
"What?" I turned around to look at her, shock and awe apparent on my face.
"Just do as I say." She moved around me to the door, fully focused now. "Tell them I want to lie down on my father's couch."
"What?" I repeated. I couldn't even describe how confused and conflicted I was feeling.
She opened the door and unleashed the torrent of tears again. She approached the security desk and both men stood, recognizing immediately who she was. She left me no choice but to follow her.
"She would like to rest on her father's couch," I stated this fact like nothing mattered more, somehow suddenly entirely capable of lying to armed men.
"Of course." They opened the glass doors for her but stepped in front of me.
"He's with me. My escort," she mumbled through her still flowing tears.
One of the security guards placed a heavy hand on my shoulder to stop me. "Credentials?"
"Felix…" she started, almost shocked that they would question her.
"It's okay," I fished in my pocket for the fake ID, confidence still oozing from my voice. He examined it carefully before handing it back.
"Thank you, Mr. Bumbershoot." I would have to remember to thank Jasper somehow for having shady connections.
"Please page me if my father comes up, won't you?" She bat her eyelashes at them and they both nodded like buffoons.
"Yes, Ms. Isabella," they replied eagerly.
"Bumbershoot, huh?" she asked as we walked down the beautifully marbled floors towards the large cherry wood doors of her father's office. "Ever been to the music festival?"
"Once, a long time ago." Her question caught me off guard.
"Going back?"
"Not anytime soon, unless I'm there to sell expensive lemonade that tastes like shit."
She shrugged at the remark. I needed to know what she knew—about me, about my father, about her own father. I needed to know that I wasn't heading into a trap, but, I didn't know how to ask without ruining this very odd change in circumstance.
She waved her finger over the biometric security device just outside the door and opened it swiftly. There was no one inside and the office was lush and very private. I remembered my father telling me about it once, describing its opulence was off-putting and didn't sit well with him. Now that I was seeing it for the first time myself, I couldn't have agreed more.
Once the doors shut, she pressed a series of buttons along the wall, sliding the wooden panels across the office's glass walls. She approached a large cabinet and pushed a few buttons, activating the sound system that piped music from everywhere. The music was louder than normal conversation. She walked to me and pulled me into the center of the room, away from where I hoped to find my father's freedom.
"May I have this dance?" she asked. Once again, she took me by surprise. Dance? Weren't we supposed to be looking for files, notes, signatures? I eyed the cabinets longingly and sighed. She had done nothing but surprise me all night and if she wanted to dance, I couldn't see the harm in it.
"Certainly," I answered, the confidence fading from my tone. She said she wanted to help, and she had gotten me much further than I'd dared to dream. Minutes ago I had reached rock bottom, ready to abandon my mission. Now, here I was, in Swan's office, thisclose to what I needed.
I slipped one hand around her waist and offered her the other. She was light on her feet, no doubt from countless hours of dance lessons. I'd had them too, a lifetime ago. I smiled minutely at the recollection, but she caught it.
She placed her cheek beside mine and began to hum along with the music. We moved slowly in small circles as the music played. Her frame, though several inches shorter than mine, fit into every curve of my body. The sensation was almost more than I could process, so I just let it go and enjoyed the moment. It would all end soon.
Finally, she spoke. "What do you need from me, Edward Cullen?"
The lightning bolt of realization hit me again, and I jerked back, releasing her from my grasp. She looked at me, stoic, confident in her knowledge. She knew exactly who I was and still brought me to the place where I could find answers. I had underestimated her entirely and felt an overwhelming shame.
I moved back to her, and pulled her back into my arms, tighter this time, both hands wrapped daringly low around her waist. We danced once more. Her cheek was beside mine when I returned the question, remembering what she preferred being called. "What do you need from me, Bella Swan?"
"I have a proposition for you, Edward. I believe we can reach a mutually desirable outcome tonight. And we can both walk away with what we need. Game?"
I was dying to hear it. "What do you have in mind?"
"I will get you what you need, and you, in return, will get me out."
My heart began to pound impossibly harder. She knew there was still evidence. She took her time dancing because she knew right where it was. "Why would you help me?"
"Because I know right from wrong. I was privy to a lot of the inner details of your father's trials and I said nothing. I need to make it right. And by making it right, I can stop living like this. And he will leave me be. They'll all leave me be," her voice trailed off as, I can only assume, she realized the gravity of her words.
"You understand you'll lose everything by helping me," I insisted.
She turned to face me then, her eyes boring into mine. "Will I?"
I staggered. She couldn't mean… could she? "You'll… you'll lose all your money, your friends, your homes, your reputation," I clarified. "I've been there. I know."
That set her off. "I don't want money, or homes. I don't have friends and don't you dare presume that I want to keep my reputation."
I held her tighter as the song changed, hoping to give her one more chance to change her mind before she potentially lost it all. "I know the consequences of the choice you're making. I am homeless with few friends, I've lost my reputation and I have no money to care for my mother or defend my father."
"It's my father that belongs in prison, not yours. I'm tired of living a lie and if by losing everything I gain my freedom, then so be it. Will you help me?"
She may have led a more privileged life, but by not having the freedom to do what she wanted with that life she literally had nothing. Without thinking I said, "I would very much like to kiss you Bella."
"I am engaged," she whispered.
"Are you?"
She tilted her head back, giving me the answer to my question. Knowing that her life was about to be destroyed, I was arrogant enough to believe I would give her one last glimpse of happiness. Perhaps I was giving myself the same thing. Even if my father was released, his reputation in the medical community may never be restored, and my mother may never get better.
Her lips tasted so sweet. I was ashamed that I was in such a hurry to consume her earlier. Neither of us wanted more. Just a simple kiss that I couldn't help but feel should've been our first. We both pulled away, satisfied.
"Mmm." She smiled and licked her lips. I smiled in response, glad to see that my moment of happiness had been mutual.
She froze in my arms as we heard an intercom buzz on her father's desk. "Ms. Swan, your father is on his way to his office."
"Does he know I'm here, Demitri?"
"No, ma'am, but he asked if I'd seen you."
"Thank you." The flash of fear in her eyes was immediate and frightened me as well. Charles was looking for Bella. I had prepared for a physical fight earlier, and I may just get my chance if he caught us. The security guards were another matter altogether...
She hesitated and looked up at me, awaiting my answer. "Yes, of course I will help you. I need my father's original memos, dated anytime in the spring before the vaccine was tested and signed by your father and Black that it was read by them."
Bella ran to her father's desk, released the window panels and opened the desk drawer. She pulled out several thick files while signaling to me that the music needed to be turned off and that I should remain silent. I wondered briefly how many times she'd come here and looked at those pages, knowing they would be her key to freedom. She grabbed the file and directed me towards a hidden exit in the wall. It was apparent that she had done this before, too.
As soon as we quietly closed the door, we heard the security system release the lock on the office's main doors. We could hear a woman's drunken giggles and her father's gruff voice as the music was turned back on. Bella looked at me then, her disgust obvious and indicated that I should wait where I was in the small room. I hadn't noticed until then that she had led us to a vault room foyer. She entered a code and opened the vault, grabbing a messenger bag that she'd likely prepared for herself.
She quickly led us out another exit and down a flight of stairs, breathless and overjoyed. She didn't seem concerned about her safety at all, which concerned me. "I knew… who you were. I watched the trials and saw how you were there, every day, vigilantly standing by your parents. The moment I laid eyes on you in that kitchen I knew who you were. I knew this was our… my… our chance. Your father's freedom and my own. It was me who told Alice which floor the offices were on. That's how I knew where to meet you."
I took her hand then, as I knew time was of the essence. I was determined to get her out too. She had to come with me or she might go down with the rest of them.
We found an elevator and I pressed the parking garage button. She pressed the button for the forty-first floor, where the kitchen was. "What are you doing?" I demanded.
She was beaming at me. "I need to tell Alice that you got out safely. She deserves to know, she's been helping you all along too."
"You're coming with me."
"I'm not." She opened the messenger bag and put in the files, zipping it swiftly before I could see what else it contained. "Do you realize, that even while my father was raking your father across the coals, Carlisle continued to work on that influenza vaccine? Working for my family meant that the patent was theirs. Isn't that a kick in the ass? They held on to the patent's profits in cash, just in case the feds came snooping for records of the originator."
Her face was flush with excitement. What she was telling me spoke volumes about what she knew and didn't have time to share. "Bella. You have to come with me. I can hide you, protect you." She placed her small hand on my face, trying to calm me as we landed on the forty-first floor. I hit the DOOR CLOSE button.
"You already do protect me," she smiled. "Don't forget me. Take care of your mother and say hello to your father. Three years is a long time to be without him."
I wanted to scream. This was the right thing to do and she knew it, I knew it too. But I didn't have to like it. To rise from the ashes, she had to go up in the flames.
"I swear. Someday." I kissed her then, the same sweet kiss as before but this time tinged with something I hadn't felt in years. I wanted her to taste it in my kiss, something I had lost and suddenly felt again. I needed to share it because I had nothing else to give.
"Mmm… hope," she smiled, releasing the elevator button and stepping into the kitchen hallway.
"Thank you for my father's freedom," I offered lamely.
"Thank you for mine," she smiled, tears falling from her eyes. I stepped out of the elevator and moved to hug her, but she pushed me back, meeting halfway and allowing the embrace to continue. "You have to go," she whispered in my ear. "I put the keys to the Ducati in your pocket as well as Alice's cell phone."
As we allowed the doors to close, I could hear Jacob's voice demanding to know where Bella was and Alice's voice attempting to calm him. I caught a glimpse of her closing her eyes and smiling as the door sealed. I wanted to go back and get her. It hurt.
During the elevator ride, I let it out. I screamed and punched the walls. There were tears of anger, tears of relief, tears of hope. I opened the messenger bag to find the files of not only my father, but of others. There was a lot of cash in that bag. It wasn't pay off money. It was the patent money my father would've earned had he been allowed to stay.
I made it to the parking garage and started the Ducati. Remembering Introduction to Basic Scooter one-oh-one, I started it up and sped off. I stopped several blocks away and called Jasper. "Jasper, it's Edward. Man I did it, we did it. You need to come to the Black Swan building and get Alice. She was awesome. If you don't marry her, I just might. I'll contact you again as soon as I can."
I hung up then, wishing I had a way to find out if Bella was okay. Instead, I headed to the hospital where I knew the visiting hours were over. Mom had to know. Tonight. She had to know that her husband was coming home.
We were all finally free.