A/N:

*crawls out of her grave*

OKAY SO TO BE FAIR, I had no idea that my life was going to turn into complete chaos or I would have planned ahead. The time has really flown by, I had my BFF (and beta) come visit for 10 days then two weeks later I had my trip to London and then my friend's wedding Wales and in between those two weeks I was transitioning jobs and all these other little cluster fucks in between. BUT, slowly I'm getting back into the motions.

Have patience.

*This entire story is already written, I just sometimes take so long to post because I either second guess little twists and happenings and change stuff around or I get too busy to reread after Kenz sends me back the edited version. I really do not want to take so long to post again, I want to get back into posting every 2-3 weeks.

Before I let ya get down to it, big thanks to Kenz. Seriously, you guys don't understand the work she does. I literally hand her a jumble of fucking words tangled all into each other and she just takes it all in and spits out complete beauty and actual writing. Thanks, boo.


THE CULLEN DEBACLE

The next morning, I wake on the couch with an empty bowl on the coffee table and a raw turkey on Joey Tribbiani's head flashing across the screen of my television, indicating how the day will be.

Time at the shop drags on, the nerves I had from my first date with Edward back in full force.

I lie to myself and say it's because I have to find a way to be alone long enough to plant the bugs Jasper has given to me, but I know it isn't true. Still, I avoid the truth at all costs, preferring my blissful ignorance.

Even though my mind is screaming for it, I don't call Alice, wanting to evade another interrogation about my supposed new client. Instead, I channel her in spirit, knowing she would be pleased with my choice of outfit for the evening.

I'm wearing a high waisted, A-line skirt that hits just above my calves. It is a light lavender with large water-colored pink blossoms strategically placed on it. I pair it with a grey sweater that has the shoulders cut out and dark grey, open toed wedges.

My dirty blonde hair is in a messy—but classy—bun, with a few thought out loose tendrils framing my face. I go for minimal make up, not wanting to give Edward's mother the impression that I'm a harlot, opting for a little winged eyeliner on my top lid. I top my look off with some nude lipstick and check myself out in the mirror, pleased with my new-found skill of fashion.

I get confirmation of how well I clean up when I open my apartment door to Edward.

"Well, if I warranted that reaction I think I better go change." I murmur after we break our embrace.

Edward chuckles and grabs my hand, "I think you'd get that reaction out of me wearing just about anything."

"Good to know." I smirk, grabbing up my purse and walking out the door, hand in hand with Edward.

I silently fidget the entire drive.

The route to Carlisle's is pretty familiar to me, a fact that Edward is oblivious to, which makes the nerves immensely worse. I start going through scenarios in my head, each one worse than the previous.

What if Carlisle or anyone else saw Emmett and I on camera? This could be a set up to get me in the house and hold me hostage for information.

I glance at Edward as he is seemingly at ease, drumming his fingers along to the beat of the classical music that fills the car. The sincerity in his eyes mirrors that of his father's—and I find myself believing they are not capable of carrying out the horrible 'what if's?' I am dreaming up internally.

I'm in the middle of yet another scenario involving duck tape, barbed wire, and Esme throwing hot tea in my face when Edward reaches over and grasps my hand gently in his.

I am suddenly all too aware that the car has come to stop in the driveway of the Cullen house. I look over at Edward, not quite meeting his eyes.

"Hey..." He murmurs, lifting my chin with his other hand. "We don't have to do this if you're uncomfortable. I know this is a little fast."

"No, no. I'm just a little nervous. Your family just seems so perfect." A little too perfect...

"Trust me, we're not. Like you said, you've already met my dad. That's already almost half." He grins, pulling me in for a quick, comforting kiss.

This simple gesture manages to make me forget everything, which I'm sure was Edward's intent.

"Ready?" He asks me, searching my face for any sign of my feelings.

I nod, stepping out of the car with more confidence than before.

The house looks different now that it has the sun to illuminate it. In the dark, it looked almost daunting. Now, I can appreciate how Mrs. Cullen has beautifully adorned the house.

The mansion-like home looks like it has been sitting here for nearly a century, but with signs of recent renovation. The restorations do nothing to the foundation of the house, they only compliment it's old age. Some parts of the house are cobblestone and the other parts smooth, cream colored concrete. The vast garden circling the house is breathtaking in the twilight of the day, something I had not had the chance to appreciate in the dead of night.

Carlisle opens the door before we approach the steps, smiling down at us. Must have been alerted by the motion sensors, I deduce.

"Marie, gorgeous as always." He pulls me in for a warm hug and that childish, giddy, fucking school girl just has to say hello.

We're going to have to sit down and have a heart to heart, me and her. This shit is getting ridiculous.

"Carlisle, you know better than you use that deadly charm of yours on innocent, unsuspecting women." I hear a woman chide playfully from inside the house.

I have this unusual urge to put on sunglasses when my eyes land on Esme Cullen. Her glowing beauty is almost blinding.

She has warm, slightly tanned skin, which accentuates this glow. Her long, caramel colored hair, which frames her heart shaped face perfectly, has a shine that is unachievable to most women. Her eyes—a strikingly familiar shade of green—are bright and gentle as she gazes at me admiringly.

"Oh, Marie, it's absolutely wonderful to meet you... Finally." Her eyes cut to Edward as she glares before turning back and smiling back at me while she opens her arms for a hug. When she draws me in, thoughts of my own mother flood my mind.

"Thank you. You have such a beautiful home, Mrs. Cullen." I express shyly.

"Oh, please. Call me Esme, Mrs. Cullen is my mother-in-law." She winks, "Why don't we get settled in the kitchen for now. I'm just waiting on a roast, and Rose is on her way."

We all follow her to a grand kitchen with pinewood floors and white cabinets. There are pans hanging above the island that look as though they've never been touched. But from the few times I've been up for a stake out here with Emmett, I am well aware they are used daily. The island alone is the size of half my kitchen, with tall wooden stools lining one side.

Edward and I sit next to each other, his arm draped across the back of my chair as he turns his body towards me. Carlisle stands near the oven, lovingly watching Esme finish up tonight's meal.

"What can I get for you, sweetheart? Wine, tea...?" Esme offers.

"Oh, just water for now is fine, thank you." I cannot afford a glass of wine on an empty stomach. It might hit me a little harder than it would normally, and the last thing I need to be is drunk right now. Lord knows what happens when I've had too much wine...

"Marie, I have to thank you for your delightful arrangements my Carlisle brings me. You have a natural talent. Have you been in the business long?" Esme asks as she sets two glasses of water in front of Edward and I.

"Oh, just a few weeks. This is my first business, actually. Before this I managed a restaurant back home in Wyoming that was owned by a friend."

"Well, congratulations! You are going to put that flower shop down the road out of business. How long have you been in Chicago?"

"I moved here just a week before I opened up the shop."

"This must be such a drastic change compared to what you're used to. How do you like Chicago so far?" She avoids asking about my parents, something I'm sure Carlisle or Edward have already told her about.

"I love it! It's such a stunning city with a lot of history. The art museums are amazing here. We don't have any like this back home."

As I'm taking a sip of the lemon water Esme put in front of me, I hear the front door open. Shortly after steps are heard approaching the living room.

"Edward tells me you met at the Art Institute here." She winks unabashedly, "A woman with a taste for art is his kryptonite. I'm surprised he didn't bend you over right there."

You know that feeling you get right before something really bad happens? Like a car accident, or when a knife falls while you're cutting something and it's headed towards your foot? There's a moment, right before it happens, that time slows. Your subconscious literally has a second to say, oh shit, then time resumes and you crash, face first into it.

That's exactly what is happening to me now.

Edward's sister walks in, all legs and gorgeous golden blonde hair—the same golden blonde hair that I saw at a certain restaurant a few weeks ago. Her icy blue eyes zero in on me, but I'm far too preoccupied with the man walking in behind her to be intimidated.

A second after my 'oh shit' moment, I do a spit-take. Except this is not a Hollywood spit-take, and I'm definitely no high-paid actress who manages to pull this off comedically while still being classy and cute.

During all of this, I still have—thankfully—managed to keep the glass up against my lips. Instead of the water spraying all over Edward—who I'm facing—it blasts into the glass, but because of physics, the water hurdles back and ends up all over my face.

"Shit!" I blurt as my eyes feel the sting of the lemon in my drink.

I silently curse poor Esme, who only wanted to spruce up my water for me. She couldn't have envisioned the water ending up anywhere other than my mouth, however, so I forgive her.

I clench my eyes shut, waiting for the stinging to go away.

"Oh god, Marie, I'm so sorry. I'm too crass for my own good sometimes." I hear Esme cry.

"No, no! It went down the wrong way, that's all." I assure her, eyes still clamped—to avoid the sting or reality, I'm unsure.

"Here, let me help." Edward says a few inches from my ear.

I feel a napkin blot my face gently while a warm hand holds my face still.

Once I feel my face is dry, I open my eyes to a blurry image of five bodies standing all around me. I blink a few times and focus my eyes on Edward, who's standing close to me, still holding my face.

I clear my throat and force a laugh out, "I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened there."

"Nonsense! Don't apologize, please. I forget that we just met, you'll soon learn how I can get with a few glasses of wine in me."

I'm grateful that I had Esme's comment to hide behind for my mishap. I smile warmly at her and let her know that vulgar is always welcome with me before she turns towards Rosalie and her boyfriend.

"Now, who is this handsome linebacker?" Esme cheerfully rocks on her feet and claps her hands together in an eager, Alice-like manner—a stark contrast to how I'm feeling right now.

Rosalie rolls her eyes, the side of her mouth slightly lifting into a smile. "Mom, this is Liam."

Liam beams at Esme, but when she offers a hand he bypasses it and brings her into a bear hug. "Mrs. C! It's a pleasure."

Esme practically bathes in his greeting as if they are old family friends. "Oh, Rose! He's absolutely wonderful!" She blushes slightly as he puts her down and it takes a great amount of willpower to not roll my eyes.

After Carlisle gives him a few welcoming words, Edward and I stand to introduce ourselves.

I deliberately choose Rosalie first, not because she's Edward's sister, but because I'm trying to avoid the burly beast of a man behind her.

"Hi, I'm Marie. So nice to finally meet you." I extend my hand to her kindly.

She holds my gaze for quite a while, accessing me with those piercing blue eyes, almost like she's making sure I am who I say I am. I look back at her, confident and steady. After a moment, she nods her head imperceptibly and shakes my hand.

"Rosalie." She affirms before she lets go of my hand and dismisses my existence.

I turn, too caught up in my own thoughts to feel offended by her, and hold my hand out again, looking up to meet my twin brother's brown eyes.

"Hi, I'm Marie, nice to meet you."

Emmett grasps my hand, his grip nearly crushing. "Liam, the pleasure is all mine." He gives me a dimpled smile.

To anyone else, this looks like a pleasant exchange between two strangers. But only I can see the fire burning behind my brother's eyes.

Esme resumes gushing over him, giggling on about a Shakespearean play and how Emmett has finally tamed her hellion of a daughter.

"Well now," Esme claps once, "let's all shuffle into the living room."

Edward comes up behind me—oblivious to the exchange between my brother and I—as I'm waiting for everyone to cross the threshold, his hand rests on my waist as he whispers in my ear, "I think she likes you. Rosalie."

Emmett looks back casually watching our exchange as I turn into Edward's arms, before heading out of the kitchen. I choose to ignore him so my nerves don't get any more shot than they have already gotten.

"That's 'like'?" I mutter, eyes wide with disbelief.

"You're the first girl she's introduced herself to." He chuckles.

Before I can stop the words, they come flying out of me. "You bring home girls often?"

Edward looks at me seriously, "No... You're technically the first, but she's met girls I've dated in the past and doesn't so much as even glance in their direction."

I pull him down for a quick kiss, "Thanks for the honesty." I lie—I just want a distraction from Emmett being here.

"Thanks for dealing with my mom."

I giggle, "She's a trip. That really went down the wrong way. I'm disappointed I couldn't give her a comeback to that."

He gives me my favorite crooked smile, "You'll have plenty more opportunities for redemption. I promise."

We make our way to the dining room but I can't find myself able to appreciate the beautifully arranged food Esme has set out for us tonight. My mind is reeling with thoughts of how Emmett can efficiently kill me without leaving any evidence. To think, just a few minutes ago I was worried about the Cullens. I know my brother too well to dwell the fact that he is much more lethal than this entire family combined.

I sit and sneak a peek over at him, he smiles warmly at me. Oh, he's fucking pissed.

We all make chit chat as we gather food on our plates and begin eating. I don't contribute much to conversation but to answer questions. With every cell in my body screaming to get the fuck out of dodge, I can't find it in me to talk freely.

Emmett, however, seems completely at ease and totally in his element. He's his usual joking self, telling jokes and laughing loudly at the ones Esme shares.

Edward reaches over and squeezes my leg in reassurance, taking my quiet demeanor as being nervous. I grin at him, taking his hand in mine and squeezing back.

Emmett coughs, distracting Edward and I from our quiet exchange. When I focus back on my food, I put more effort into the conversation.

During an intense debate between Edward and Carlisle about the changes in today's politics, I fall silent and listen intently to them while eating the rest of Esme's pot roast. My eyes wander over to Emmett again, who's watching Rosalie talk to Esme animatedly about a new business deal she's acquired.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Emmett tapping his fork subtly.

When we were kids, he and I taught ourselves Morse code after watching Balto, the Disney movie about sled dogs. We would tap on each other's walls in the middle of the night to relay messages through them and when we grew older, we'd talk secretly during class to exchange answers for a test.

I whip my head back to Edward and Carlisle's talk, ignoring him. God only knows the sling of curse words he's tapping.

After a few more glances I see his tapping grows relentless. I give up and focus on his fingers, deciphering the message.

What the fuck, Bella?

What the fuck, Bella?

What the fuck, Bella?

He taps that over and over again. I fight the urge to roll my eyes—it'll only make matters worse. I tap my message on my glass of wine as I go to take a sip, ignoring his initial one.

Distract them for me.

"Where's the restroom?" I whisper into Edward's ear.

He gives me directions and I stand to leave, casting one last glance in Emmett's direction.

I hope that he's not angry enough to leave me high and dry. If I get caught where I don't belong, I may as well be pulled from the mission because I'll be useless if I lose Edward's trust—or dead, depending on how you look at it.

I make it to the bathroom and make sure to close the door audibly. Waiting a minute, I turn the light back off and sneak out, opening every door as I walk down the hall. I only see bathrooms, closets, and a sitting area that overlooks the front yard.

At the end of the hall I reach a door that is locked and pull out a small lock picking kit that I tucked into the waistband of my skirt and eye the lock, deciding of the size of pick I need.

I can hear Emmett telling a particularly raunchy joke—one of his favorites. I've heard this one about a thousand times, it's about a guy walking into a bar and a lesbian bartender.

The lock to cooperates within a few seconds and I sneak into the room, closing the door behind me. The room appears to be an office that belongs to Carlisle.

I quickly plant two bugs, one hidden underneath his desk and another behind a bookshelf before taking advantage of the opportunity that has presented itself for me.

In the first drawer of his desk, I find nothing but regular paperwork for businesses Carlisle keeps books for. They are all local businesses, nothing serious.

The second drawer has a high-tech lock that requires a pin code and fingerprint. I have the technology to open it, but not on me. Even if I did, it would certainly take at least ten minutes, maybe a few more for me to lift a usable fingerprint from this office and for the code grabber to crack the passcode. I don't have that kind of time here. Reluctantly, I keep moving.

In the third drawer, I find some personal clients of his but none of the names I recognize. I slip my phone out of my skirt pocket, snapping pictures of all the documents and sending them to Jasper.

On the last drawer, I hurry through the files, wanting to send Jazz as much info as I can.

Just as I'm about to close the cabinet, a name pops out at me. Ronald H. King. It's similar to Royce King, but that I'm aware of Royce is the first in his generation to get into the crime business. His parents are squeaky clean and have denounced him completely, living a quiet life in Canada.

Ronald could be his real name...

I pick up the manila folder and open it. All of the paperwork shows the closing of bank accounts. There are twenty-two accounts in total, all of which were drained months ago, before being closed. The amount totalling up to around five-hundred million dollars that have been spread across banks around the world.

Why would he keep this kind of paperwork? I wonder.

I jump at the sound of Em's boisterous laugh.

Overkill, Emmett. I roll my eyes at his efforts to impress the Cullen's.

Putting the file back neatly, I scurry out of the office, locking the door behind me.

I get back to the table just in time to hear Emmett's punch line.

"And then she says, 'smell my breath'!" He shakes with laughter, banging his hand on the table.

Esme is hunched over, cackling with tears in her eyes, while Edward and Carlisle chuckle quietly. Rosalie is blushing as she smirks.

I sit back down, smiling brightly at everyone's laughter.

"Oh, Marie!" Esme giggles, wiping tears from her eyes, "You have to hear this one. Liam, please, tell Marie."

Please don't.

I have to remind myself that Esme does not know I have had to endure this stupid joke time and time again for years. Still, a few curses cross my mind as I look attentively at Emmett and laugh at the appropriate times.

The conversation wanes as dessert comes and goes. I couldn't hold myself back from having two servings of Esme's angel cake. This seems to excite her, and she proceeds to watch me with bright eyes as I shovel cake into my mouth.

"Oh my god, Esme. You are a wonderful cook. Thank you." I moan.

I see Edward shift slightly in his seat in my peripheral and inwardly smirk.

"You have to come to breakfast next week! We have breakfast for dinner every Wednesday here. Edward and Rose usually try and stop by for some when they can—although they both have been pretty preoccupied these past weeks." She winks as she gives us a lop-sided grin. "Liam, I'd love to see you come back as well."

"I'd be more than happy to Mrs. C. I make a mean quiche I can bring with me." He winks and gives Esme an all-star smile.

"Ooohh, Rose I like this one." She whispers loudly to her daughter as she props her head onto her hand dreamily. Esme's eyes are glazed over and she has found anything anyone has said in the past twenty minutes hilarious.

"I think my lovely lady needs to retire." Carlisle laughs.

We all give goodbye hugs and Carlisle walks us out, jokingly apologizing for his lush of a wife.

"I'll be seeing you, Marie." Rose calls over her shoulder as her, barely taking the time to look back while she and Emmett make their way to his car.

Edward helps me into the car before hopping in and starting the engine. My eyes are glued to Emmett's Jeep as he peels out of the driveway.

I know what's waiting back at my apartment, and I'm not quite ready to meet my imminent fate.

"Actually... I don't wanna go home just yet." I murmur, turning to look at Edward.

"Okay. We can go to my place for a drink?"

"That sounds perfect."

_*line here*_

"Marie?"

I turn away from the large window overlooking the lovely green scenery that has now grown dark and shift my gaze over to Edward.

He sits down on his couch and holds up a glass of wine, beckoning me over.

I lean back against the window and admire him from this distance. He stares back, trying to get a read on me.

"What's on your mind?" He asks quietly after he fails.

I shake my head, thankful that he can't read minds. If he knew what was plaguing me right now he wouldn't be offering me a drink.

I'd give anything to stay in the confines of these walls with Edward and never have to face the wrath of my brother that patiently waits for me.

Unzipping my skirt, I stare into Edward's eyes as I decide on enjoying my last few moments of peace.

The skirt pools at my feet, allowing him to become aware of the fact that I am not wearing anything underneath. I took the liberty of slipping off my underwear in the bathroom once we had arrived here, which I now acknowledge was a great decision.

I slip my sweater over my head and let it join the skirt before reaching behind and unclasping my bra.

"I'll never get tired of seeing you like this." Edward marvels, absentmindedly setting the glasses of wine on the coffee table beside him.

I move slow, deliberately, as I make my way towards him. Easing myself down to straddle him, I let him admire me from a closer view.

"Your confidence is like an aphrodisiac, you know that?" He murmurs.

"How so?"

"Some women are overconfident, which in itself is unattractive. Others, on the other hand, lack it entirely, making it difficult for them to take compliments or enjoy sex... But you..." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear reverently before letting his hand trail lower and lower. "You've found a perfect medium. So self aware and sure of yourself in the sexiest way."

I smile at his admiration, thankful for the advice I received long ago on how to love myself and be comfortable in my own skin. "I learned years ago that life is so much easier when you don't tear yourself down with negativity." I reply quietly.

"Well, I wish I could thank whoever told you that."

I highly doubt you'd like to do that... I inwardly quip.

His eyes divert towards my right shoulder and his forehead creases in worry. Before I can realize what exactly he's looking at, he drags a finger across my round scar. It's about the size of a quarter, slightly raised and pink.

I earned it in my time spent in Russia with Emmett. It was during the first few weeks we were there. We had run into a couple of crooked soldiers that guarded the village we had been stationed near. I remember it being one of the darkest, coldest nights we spent there.

Emmett and I were shooting blindly at them while they shot at us. One of the bullets managed to catch up with me, piercing right through my shoulder. I didn't even feel it until we had made it back safely to the youth hostel we were hiding out at. That is one of the many scars that decorate my body.

"I slipped and fell onto a thick branch when I was a teenager, pierced right through." I murmur.

His hand trails back behind my shoulder to feel the other scar. I'm almost about to say it doesn't hurt anymore since the worry doesn't leave his eyes, but he distracts me by running his other hand across my abdomen, feeling the thick, two-inch-long scar right below my rib cage.

Stab wound from my time in London. "I was swimming in a river a few summers ago. Current caught me and dragged me across a particularly sharp rock." I reply.

His eyes search now, roaming across my body in a different kind of way than I'm used to. His hands find the dozens of tiny marks on my thighs.

Glass wounds from a particularly high fall through a glass roof window in Cabo. "Fell on glass." I raise place my hands on my shoulders to showcase the matching scars on the backs of my forearms.

I stop his hands, growing tired of the lies that are spilling out of my mouth. He looks up at me, the worry disappearing, morphing into a small smirk. "You are quite clumsy, Miss Woods."

I smile back, "So nice of you to point out the obvious, Mr. Cullen."

His smirk grows larger and he opens his mouth to say something, but I cut him off by dragging his hands up to my breasts.

He gives them one gentle squeeze, his eyes heavy, before he wraps his hands arms around me. He stands, lifting me with him, holding me close as I begin to assault his lips, gently biting and reveling in the moans that come from deep within his chest.

He carries me down the hall, never faltering in step. Once we reach our destination, he sets me down gently on the bed and he pulls back from me silently. I bring up a hand to caress his cheek as we both stare into each other's eyes for a moment. He ducks his head slowly, his lips gently meeting the scar on my shoulder.

Taking his time, he makes his way down stopping at my second scar on my abdomen, showering it with a series of gentle kisses. When he reaches my thighs, his intentions become blatantly clear to me.

My eyes flutter close as I enjoy the feel of Edward's lips on my skin, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake.

After a few moments, his hand slips into mine and he pulls me up. Before I have time to question, he motions for me to turn around.

Kneeling on the bed, I look over my shoulder at him as he leans towards my last scar, placing a feather light kiss on it before pulling me towards him until my back is flush against his bare chest. When he found the time to take his clothes off is beyond me, but I can't bring myself to care as his hands find their way to my breasts again.

One of his hands leaves me, reappearing around my waist. In one swift and tender motion, he lifts me slightly and slowly lowers me on to his length. I cry out from the unexpectedness of being filled so completely along with all of the other accompanying sensations. Edward bites down on my shoulder in paralleled euphoria.

My fingers find his hair like magnets to metal, and I pull lightly while he uses his arm to lift me up and down methodically.

This new angle makes my eyes roll back in ecstasy. Judging by the sounds coming from Edward, I am pleased to find him enveloped in the same feelings.

He swats my hand away suddenly—a hand that I didn't even know had made it's way to my center—and replaces it with his own, creating tiny, quick circles which I'm sure will unravel me within seconds.

"As much as I loved watching you touch yourself," He pants slightly, "I've been looking forward to doing this since I first laid eyes on you."

I let out an embarrassingly loud moan and let my head fall back on to his shoulder as he puts more pressure on me, picking up the pace slightly.

Stars materialize behind my eyelids as I come, my walls spasm around him, coaxing his own orgasm out.

In this moment of pure happiness and content, I realize the trouble I am in.

Long after Edward has fallen asleep, I lay awake.

I know avoiding whatever fuck cluster is waiting for me at home any longer will just do more harm, but I can't bring myself to leave.

Propping my head up on an arm as I lay next to him, I admire his sleeping form, devoid of any stress lines like the ones marring my own face. The peacefulness on his face makes me smile to myself, taking in all the beauty he has to offer and committing it to memory.

I can't deny any longer that I'm falling for this man, hard. I know Emmett sees it, too. I still choose to ignore my real life waiting back at home in DC. If the world is giving me just a short amount of time with Edward Cullen, I'm going to take that time and grip it tight.

A quote from a favorite novelist pushes its way into my mind at this thought.

Everything I've ever let go of has claw marks on it...

I refuse to think of what Edward will look like when I'm forced to let go of him.

Looking back at the alarm clock next to his bed, I see it's nearly five in the morning. I grab my phone and order a cab to come get me, thinking that Emmett has waited long enough.

Part of me hopes he got too tired and left, but it's a fleeting hope that's crushed with the understanding of my brother's character. It takes a hell of a lot of effort to piss off Emmett, but once that fuse is lit, you are completely done for.

My phone alerts me that the cab has arrived and I silently get dressed.

The walk downstairs almost feels like a walk of shame. I heave myself into the car, and after giving the driver directions I lay my head back and close my eyes. Within the darkness I have created, I attempt to think of anything but what's waiting for me.

I drag my feet up to my apartment immaturely. I know I look like a four-year-old on their way to a spanking but I can't seem to care. Halfway up the stairs, my phone buzzes with a text.

Godspeed. - J

How bad is it? - B

He's been there since 10 last night... - J

I groan inwardly... This is bad. This is really bad.

I open the door as slowly as possible, a little shred of hope still inside me that Emmett fell asleep.

Keeping my eyes downcast, I lock the door and turn towards the living room.

The apartment's eerie quietness confirms that Emmett is still awake. If he were sleeping, the walls would be rattling from his snores.

I raise my eyes and see him sitting on the couch, silently fuming and refusing to look in my direction. His eyes are slightly bloodshot, apparent bags underneath them, almost as though he's been staring down at the floor, waiting for me to walk through the door since his arrival.

"I can explain..." I mutter.

"Explain?... Explain?" He bursts as his eyes shoot up to meet mine.

He looks exactly like my father right now, even playing the part of a parent.

Whenever one of my brothers or I would get in deep shit, Renee or Charlie would just repeat what we would say incredulously like they couldn't even believe we were attempting to pull excuses out of our asses.

"If you just hear me out—"

"Hear you out?" He repeats back to me.

Mom and dad would be so proud right now.

"Will you stop repeating everything I'm saying and listen?!" I insist.

"Isabella, this is serious shit. You have officially fallen deep into the rabbit hole—you know what?" He continues, his voice growing louder every word, "You're not even in the rabbit hole anymore. This is fucking wonderland you've belly flopped into!"

"I know what I'm doing—" I interrupt just as loud, tired of this fucking rabbit hole everyone seems to be talking about.

"NO! You don't!" He roars, standing. "You think I don't know you? You think I don't see the way you look at him? What the fuck is this, Isabella?"

"It's me doing my fucking job right, Emmett. That's what this is!" I yell back.

"Your job is to get the information we need to take these assholes down, not fuck your mark."

My eyes water as if he's punched me in the gut, but those words sting so much more than if he would have.

"And you? Hmm? What about you?!..." I shout, "Don't think I don't know you've been slumming it up with Rosalie Cullen, lying to me about what you're doing... Going behind my back? Really Emmett? I saw you guys at that Italian restaurant downtown." I bite back.

"Oh, so now you're spying on me?... In case you haven't realized it yet, Rosalie isn't creating fake W2's and helping the world's most dangerous criminals launder even more money into their pockets!"

"She used to, Emmett! She fucking used to!" I can feel my face growing hot as we spit fiery words at each other. "Did she tell you that? Or were you too busy with your tongue down her throat to find that out?"

"She left! Edward is about to take over this fucking business if you haven't forgotten!"

"You knew who she was, Emmett. You knew and you've been seeing her this entire time and haven't told anyone. I told Jasper, I planted those bugs in that house to find shit out. What the fuck have you been doing? Making coffee and screwing some dumb blonde's brains out?"

He strides towards, towering over me with a rage I've never seen before. If I knew better I'd be scared, but it only fuels my own wrath. "Don't you fucking say that about her! And don't you act like you're a saint in all of this, you knew damn well who the fuck Edward was, don't try to point the finger at me."

The truth snatches me up and shakes me. I step back as this realization dawns on me; my eyes widen and I bark a humorless laugh. "Oh my god... You love her." I say the words as soon they form in my mind.

Emmett bristles. "We're not doing this right now."

"Doing what?" I patronize, "Telling the pot to meet the kettle?"

"You're not understanding. Rosalie is out of the business, she's done! She has no ties with any criminals anymore—and the ties she did have weren't as extensive as the ones her family members have. She'll just get a slap on the wrist, if anything… Edward? He's in the thick of it. What do you think happens to criminals like him? What do you think happens to agents like you, who break protocol and sleep with their targets?"

I stay silent, my eyes seething with anger as I look up at Emmett.

"Ohhh... ding, ding, ding! She fucking gets it!" He slaps his hand on his thigh sarcastically as he turns to his imaginary audience. "You know, this is an all-time low—especially for you, Bella... You should have just stayed an analyst if you were going to literally fuck this mission."

I hear a loud smack and see Emmett's head jerk to the side but only when my right hand registers the sting do I realize that I have just slapped my own brother.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out." I hiss.

He walks past me, eyes burning but not from pain.

I quickly decide I'm not done—not quite yet. I'm so infuriated at the audacity Emmett has to tell me I don't deserve my job. My heart feels like it's been lacerated by the words my own flesh and blood has thrown at me. Something ugly inside me rears it's head and whispers for me to cut into him one last time. I give in, listening intently.

"You think she'll forgive you?" I turn around, sight blurry from my tears as they pour out of me. His footsteps falter as he stops, his hand on the open door. "You think she'll come running into your arms when shit goes down?... She'll fucking hate you, Emmett. She'll never forgive you for tearing her family apart... So, you go on enjoy what little time you have left in that twisted fantasy of yours."

He chooses to not acknowledge my comment, and instead slams the door behind him as he storms out with such force that a few frames fall from the walls and shatter on the ground.

I collapse with, sobbing uncontrollably, now as pure anguish eclipses my anger.

My phone buzzes in my pocket but I ignore it, laying down on the hardwood and wrapping my arms around myself.

I'm so exhausted from the fighting, crying, and sleep deprivation that I easily let the blackness take over after I close my eyes.


A/N:

Yikes... That was a tough scene to write, but I masochistically enjoyed it, hehehe.

I have no trips to Europe planned or plan on changing jobs, so it's safe to say that the next chapter can be expected in 2-3 weeks! I'll try and put a rush on it as an apology for after two months!

Thank you all for reading! Reviews are awesome and light a fire under my ass to hurry up and post the next chapter!

Do you think Emmett and Bella will be quick to make up? Or do you think their fighting is what's going to cost them this mission? Let me know your thoughts!