Chapter 3: Monday, October 16

I returned to the library after ensuring everything in the apartment was as it was before I entered. Bella was still sitting in the chair reading the same book, though she had finished a considerable amount of the text.

I sat on the upper level again, watching her out of the corner of my eye while pretending to read a book. It was almost a little sad that I had come to this. By now, after knowing she was mostly a loner, I would have been planning some way to kill her. Right now, the last thing I could think about was her death. I would not be delivering it, I already decided that. I just needed to know that Bella was worth dying for. Jane was absolutely going to kill me, that was a fact.

Bella was very intrigued by her book. Every now and then her expression would change to reflect the story, she smiled only once and it left just as quickly as it came. But the smile crinkled up her doe-eyes and her pale skin went a tiny bit pink before the color left again.

It took about thirty minutes before Bella put her book away and left the library. I followed her again, keeping my distance. She ventured into the cafeteria, and I waited outside knowing it was be noticeable if I went inside as well.

I spent the time on my phone, searching everything I could possibly think of in Google before Bella finally came out again. She walked, once again, back to the library.

Frustration was starting to settle on me. Was she going to spend her life in the library? She didn't go to the chair she sat in for two hours before, instead she settled at a desk and began pulling her textbooks out.

I grabbed a computer, putting some movie on knowing she would be here for a while. I was hidden, though I could see her very well and every couple of minutes I checked to ensure that she was still devouring her work. She never looked up from her books or greeted any of the students who walked past, nor did they make an effort to greet her. She never touched a cellphone or social media on her laptop—it was a possibility that she did not spend much time on social media or even have any accounts, but she had to have a phone at the very least. But as she continued studying, the possibility of her having a phone was becoming questionable to me.

I had to remind myself several times that one day of watching her could not allow me to generalize her entire life. She kept to herself today, but tomorrow could be different. Tomorrow she might be meeting a bunch of friends and she was getting all of her work done now. Maybe was she a responsible person, but also very sociable. There possibilities of who Isabella Swan is was endlessly.

I watched a movie and a half before Bella got up. But if anyone asked me the plot, I could never tell them. My attention was elsewhere for the hours I spent in the library before the computer.

Bella gathered her things up and left the building. I followed her again and we went into the building next door. She immediately turned into a glass-walled section of the building which was labeled English Department. It was 5 o'clock, she was starting work now.

I didn't bother staying to watch, especially with the glass-walls, I would be too noticeable. I called the day quits, returning back to my apartment. I made myself a quick dinner since I didn't eat today except for breakfast and devoured that while mindlessly watching the news. It wasn't anything interesting, just some crap about school counties idiotic actions in a small town.

After dinner, I grabbed my keys, heading back out. I didn't go to the school, I went in the opposite direction to downtown Seattle. There was a spot where everyone hung out when they weren't working and I was sure that someone would be there for me to get my mind off things. The drive wasn't far, I chose my apartment with this location in mind. When I got there, I parked and made my way through the abandoned tracks.

Once the place was abandoned, criminals moved in. There were a series of tunnels that went over the tracks that were great hangout spots and abandoned buildings surrounded the area, it was almost like a valley but flat with buildings surrounding the tracks instead of mountains.

The place was nicely lit and noisy, but the cops never dared to come bust us because we were such a huge collection of people with even bigger weapons than they dared to consider being armed with. I walked along one of the tracks my crew often met at and in one of the tunnels I found several of them together.

"Edward!" Garrett, the "leader" of my crew exclaimed. "Haven't see you around, man. I was beginning to think you got owned."

He meant I got killed.

"Not yet." I grab a bottle of beer from the stash next to Tyler, a bulky guy that use brute force instead of stealth to kill his victims. Garrett was like me, he used stealth. He was my mentor in the criminal business, he was the one that picked me up when I ran away from my family. He taught me everything, and even now he still teaches me stuff.

I pop the cap off the drink, taking a large gulp before settling down. There were a bunch of others here—Victoria, James, Riley, Bree, Maria, Peter, Tanya, and Eleazar. We were a group, with several others, and this tunnel was ours. I could say we were one of the most powerful groups in this location, just barely being beat by Marcus and his clan. But Garrett felt no need to be dominant and he hardly picked fights with anyone. Anyone who was power hungry never attempted to be part of us, they knew we didn't give a damn.

"Stressful job?" Peter asks. He had dark hair cropped short, a thin frame, and mad eyes.

"Yeah, sure."

"Just take it out on whoever you gotta take it out on. Do what you gotta do." Victoria grins. Victoria was even more mad and wild than anyone here, she was driven by the death of her victims, not the money or even the outlet being a criminal was. She was a true killer, someone who really needed to be behind bars. James was able to control her, though, and she never killed anyone when there wasn't a job associated with it. James was slightly less wild, he had a calm demeanor until he got a job. He was motivated by the hunt, the adrenaline, somewhat similar to me but he took it to an extreme. He was a hunter, Victoria was the killer.

"It's not like that this time." I sigh, leaning back against the tunnel walls. I take another swing of the beer. It tasted awful, but there was something appealing about drinking it. It made me feel like someone I wasn't, not necessarily someone I wanted to be, just someone I was pretending to be. In this tunnel with this beer, I was Edward the stealthy killer. Without the beer and tunnel, I was just a lost boy who ran away from daddy troubles.

"Someone ya can't catch?" James guesses smugly. "I'll help ya out, if ya need it."

"Ah, forget it." I drown myself in the rest of my beer, hating the bitter taste in my throat but loving the physical feeling of holding the bottle and bringing it to my lips.

"Word is that Jane's got an eye on you." Garrett tells me, raising his bottle in my direction. "I wouldn't believe it unless you told me yourself."

"It's true." I confirm, another sigh. "I'm already done even though I've hardly started."

"I'll take the case man!" Peter shouts, slamming his beer bottle on the tracks. It shatters, pieces flying everywhere. I shield my face quickly, but feel a slight pinch on my hand and I know I've got a piece of glass wedged in my skin.

There was a chorus of screams at Peter, ranging from quick reflex screams to profanities. I stayed quiet, using the dim light of the lamps under the tunnel to fish the glass out of my hand. I managed to get it out, but also cut myself and let out more blood. I'd clean it better when I got back to my apartment.

"I meant with this business, not the case." I tell Peter. "It's stressful, I'm not sure how you can do it so long." I spoke mostly to Garrett now.

Garrett smiles and then sighs. "It's tough and there is a reason why so many quit before they even start. You gotta find something you love about it, something that drives you. If it's weighing on your conscious—"

James interrupts Garrett, "If it's weighing on your conscious then get the hell out of here. You're weak and pathetic, just like the rest of'em"

"Shut up." Garrett tells him. He turns back to me, "I was going to say that you are doing something wrong. You just gotta figure out what's right."

"That doesn't mean you quit this, Edward. You can't go back home, you know what they did to you. It's just wrong." Bree tells me. "Be strong, you're just going through a crisis. Everyone does, me included, and it'll pass and you will understand that you made the right choice."
"If it were me, I'd have killed'em." Victoria voices, shaking her head. "Your father deserves it."

"Ah, Victoria, we don't need that right now." Garrett groans. "Forget these idiots," he tells me, throwing his hand up in their direction. "focus on yourself, on what you need. Take a break if you have to, but remember that you chose this life and you have to stick with it. Once your out, you can't always get back in and you aren't safe anymore. We protect each other, that does not extend to one who leaves."

"I get it." I tell him, dropping my bottle next to my feet. "Give me another, Tyler."

"Sure thing." he throws one to me, I catch it and open the bottle, gulping the foul liquid down. "Easy man."

"Eh, let'em have it." Garrett says, waving his hand in dismissal.

"But look on the bright side, Edward. Jane spied you, that's great!" Victoria grins. "You'll get endless cases from her,
I shake my head. "It's terrible. Once she has her eye on you, it's never gone. Every case I do may be life or death now."

"Why's that?" Victoria questions.

"No one wants to do business with Jane, Vicky." Peter tells her. "Think about it, she can kill you at any time. Edward is associated with her now."

"Edward will also be one of the best." Garrett says, pushing his bottle into the air. "That's a cause for celebration. Edward has surpassed us all."
"Whoo!" Victoria yells, drowning half her bottle of beer.

"C'mon man," Tanya, who had remained quiet until now, stood, beckoning me to follow her. Tanya was my closest friend—actually, the only person I associated with that I could call a friend. Her past was similar to mine, bad family and so she fled. She understood my need to get away from them, but also my desire to rekindle my relationships with them.

"You're in a bit of trouble." she tells me, once we were out of ear-shot of the rest of the group. "Want to talk about that?"
"Yeah, sure. If I said no to Jane, I would be dead. If I screw this up, I'll be dead. If I survive, I'll always have her on my trail and someway or another I'll end up dead."
"That's quite predicament. What are you going to do about that?"
"No idea."
"How is the case going?"
"It's fine. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, the girl is innocent."
Tanya stops walking, turning to face me. "You can't think like that, Edward."

"I know. It's dangerous, it goes against everything we've been taught."
"Why are you thinking like that?" Tanya asks me, confused. "You've always been the best of us. Even Garrett liked you."
"I want this to be my last case. I want to go back to my family and fix things, for my sister. I'll do it for my sister because I've screwed her life up."
Tanya nods. "I see."
"I need to go back before I destroy everything permanently."

"Get it done, then. Go back with your family."

"But she's innocent Tanya!" I groan, running my fingers through my hair. Tanya sits down on the tracks of the railroad, sighing.

"Why do you think she is innocent?"

"She couldn't have wronged Jane, not in any way. She is so absorbed by her education and her father—who is her only family—that she couldn't possibly have time. Also, she has no friends, she doesn't party or drink, or even go any place other than back home to visit her father. She is much of a loner and too innocent and normal to be into this stuff."
"Normal? Edward, look at yourself. No one would ever peg you as a killer."

"Probably not. But I'm also not enrolled at a university and visiting my father every weekend." I tell Tanya. "Her father is the chief of police in Forks. She would never work against her father."
"You seem like you really understand this girl." Tanya notes.

"I've been watching her, I've gone through all of her stuff in her apartment. I feel like I do, she isn't that complicated. She doesn't really have much of a life, to be honest."

"If you don't kill her Jane will kill you."
"I'm not sure if saving myself is worth killing her." I tell Jane quietly. "Killing her might just break me, she is too innocent. She doesn't deserve it."

"Then send her into hiding." Tanya was the only person I'd ever told. Sometimes when my victims were too hard to kill, I would give them money and ID and tell them to run. As far as I knew, none of them were found yet.

"I can't do that either. She can't protect herself. And Jane wants me to show her body to the entire world."
"Oh no."

"What time is it?"

"Eight." Tanya responds after glancing at her watch.

"Shit." I mutter. "I've got to go."
"Yeah, sure." Tanya stands up with another sigh. She runs her fingers through her long blonde hair. "Listen Edward, I love you as a friend and I wouldn't be able to take it if you gave yourself up for this girl. But I'll understand if you do. Also realize that the end of the case will mark a lot of things for you, think about your parents and Alice. You need to fully know the dangers of letting this girl go free. Jane can easily hire someone else to kill her and you'll have died in vain, know that."
"Thanks Tanya."

"Be safe and if you do decide not to kill her, call me first. I won't lose you without saying goodbye."

I nod. "I will." I leave Tanya on the tracks, walking back to my car and returning home. One I got home, I went through the process of making some coffee, took a shower to rid myself of the smell of beer, cigarette smoke, and the tracks, and then proceeded to down a few cups of coffee.

I wasn't even buzzed from the drinks I'd had, so I quickly finished my coffee and drove back to campus. Isabella would still be at work, according to her schedule. I returned to the building I knew she would be in and found that she was just leaving.

It was only 8:30, maybe she was getting off early today. Either way, I waited outside for her. She was out of the building within a few minutes and quickly passed me without glancing in my direction. She walked across the quad between the buildings and entered a small coffee shop that was built into one of the buildings. I followed after her, waiting until she was inside the coffee shop to get inside. It wasn't like Starbucks or any of the chain coffee shops. This place was small and packed, it was dim but a few booths meant for studying had brighter lights. It was homey and nice, with quiet music playing in the background. Isabella picked a booth and dropped all of her books onto the table. One of the books—a bright red one—slipped off the table and fell.

Without even thinking, I walked over to her, picking up the book. She had noticed the book, but chose to take her backpack off before bending to pick it up. I spied the cover of the book, The Catcher in The Rye.

"The Catcher in The Rye, huh?" I asked her, without thinking. Why wasn't I thinking?

Isabella blushes madly, her entire face turning a shade of pale red. "Yes."
"School or pleasure?" I question. I was being stupid. I knew it, but I didn't care. I was talking to Isabella after watching her for so long, it was almost surreal.

"Pleasure." she blushes again. I hand her the book.

"I've head it's a terrible book." I tell Isabella, curiously. I'd never read it, heck I didn't ever do much reading.

"It's one of my favorites."

"Why?"

"It's a coming of age book, it's rebellion and defiance, and family love. . ." Isabella trails off, smiling slightly to herself. "It's stuff we don't talk about."

"You like rebellion and defiance?" This was all wrong. Innocent, doe-eyed Isabella could not like defiance and rebellion, she was not a rebel or defiant. She was smart, innocent, and perfect.

"Oh no." Isabella laughs, blushing more. "Not for me, but his thought processes...They're interesting."
"Thought processes?" I almost laugh, but I did smile. "That's what you like this book for?"

"Have you read it?" Isabella frowns at me and I know I've offended her.

"No."

"Read it." She snaps. Then she snatches the book from my hands, putting it on the table. She turns back to me, raising an eyebrow. "Well, are you going to leave? I have homework and I'm not interested in talking to you anymore."
"Yeah, I'll leave." I tell her coldly. "Don't drop your books if you don't want people to criticize."

"Noted." her voice was like ice and her doe-eyes were hard. I turned, leaving the coffee shop no longer caring about Isabella Swan and her innocence.

I would kill her tonight.

I drove back to my apartment, mostly glaring at the road. I wasn't sure why I was so upset, but Isabella had gotten very cold somehow and I almost didn't want to believe that hateful emotions were possible from her. But apparently they were. Which also opened up the possibility that she could kill and only killers ever got Jane's attention.

When I returned home I realized there was nothing for me to do. I grabbed my laptop, anyway, surfing on the internet about anything interesting. I turned my TV on, hoping something might catch my attention, but nothing did. I did this for about an hour before I decided to figure out what thought processes Isabella was so intrigued by.

The first link about this book was a Wikipedia link, and then Sparknotes. SparkNotes was one of the websites that got me through high school, and knowing how reliable it was, I skipped the Wikipedia link. I read for over an hour. Every word, swallowing all the details from the plot, the characters, and the theme analysis.

Phoebe Caulfield got to me. Holdon, the main character, was attempting to figure out who he was—much like I was—and ended up in New York with drugs, drinking, prostitutes, and Phoebe, who was his only source of happiness. Phoebe was his little sister who was innocent, intelligent, mature, and got Holden unlike any of the other characters did. She was so much like Alice.

Suddenly, I had the urge to call Alice. I wasn't thinking much this evening about my actions, so I figured another stupid action couldn't hurt me entirely. I grabbed my cellphone, dialing in Alice's number, and I waited for her to answer.

"Hello?" Alice bright voice spoke.

"Hey Ali," I say quietly. I wasn't sure she heard me, it was completely quiet except for some static and then I could almost hear the smile on her face when she spoke.

"Edward! Oh my gosh, you're talking to me."
I laugh darkly. "Yeah, I am." I hadn't talked to Alice on the phone for years. "Have you ever read The Catcher in the Rye?"

"Oh year, I did last year for English."
"Did you like it?"

"Kind of, it was a little weird. But it was good."
"What did you like about it?" I question. "Did you like his thought processes?"
"He was very sorry about life, and he kept using the word 'phony' which was weird. He also really didn't want to be an adult, he kind of felt sorry for them, I think. He was very lonely and he lied a lot. But I think it was all part of him just trying to deal with pain. We all deal with it in different ways."

"That's interesting." I say.

"Are you reading it?"

"Nope, a friend of mine is."
"Hmm."

"I have to go, Ali." I tell her, "I have some work to do."

"Oh. You're still coming to pick me up on Sunday, right?"

Oh. I promised Alice I'd bring her to Seattle. How could I have forgotten?! If I was going to let Isabella live, I wouldn't see Alice again.

"Yeah, of course." I lie, cursing myself silently. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Okay. Bye Edward."
"Bye." I shut my phone, throwing it against the wall with a groan of frustration. I hated Isabella so much. I paced around my apartment for a very long time. I didn't sit down until my legs started to ache, and at that point I was sure the anger was gone. Now I could think.

Isabella had to go. I needed to stay with Alice.

Isabella liked this novel about growing up and pain and rebelling, but she didn't rebel. She had all the opportunities to rebel, to drink, to go to parties, but she didn't. Instead, she went to her classes, did her homework, and tutored people. She was interesting, she didn't fit the profile of a criminal and I was absolutely sure she wasn't a criminal. She couldn't possibly be a criminal.

I related to that book though. And I wasn't entirely sure how I felt about that. Phoebe was to Holden what Alice is to me, and even though I could hardly admit it, becoming an assassin was my way of figuring out my life. I couldn't even call my issues with my parents issues, they were so much more. They were reasons to wage a war against each other, and that was something we did. We fought and screamed at each other. But Isabella's family wasn't like that. Isabella didn't have siblings, I don't think. Her mother wasn't in Forks, so she must have died or she lived somewhere else. Isabella seemed very close to her father, according to what her roommate told me.

Isabella was a very good person. Her life being taken over mine was very unfair, but destroying Alice's life was just as unfair. This was complicated and I've always hated complicated. In complicated situations, black and white turn into gray and gray is terribly dangerous.

Now I was stuck. I couldn't kill Isabella and I could let Jane kill me.