We apologize for the delay in this, real life has been hectic.
Hope we can make it up to you with some angry Edward!
EPOV
I stared at the door for a moment in shock. What the fuck just happened? What? How? Motherfucking WHY? I shook my head to unbefuddle my brain, trying to get a handle on the fact that this small woman, who has had me bat-shit crazy since we became reacquainted, just strolled out the fucking door like we didn't just have mind-blowing sex a few moments before. In my favorite, god-damn, mother-fucking t-shirt. I jumped up, threw a towel around my waist and headed towards the door, determined to confront her and find out why the hell she felt the need to leave… because I didn't want to discuss my black eye. I definitely did NOT want to talk about the black eye.
As I reached for the handle, my inner voice demon put on the brakes, pointing out,
Chasing women now, are we? What the fuck are you doing?
I'm playing right into her hands.
"FUCK!" I shouted to nobody.
The shock was wearing off quickly and switching over to anger tenfold. Edward Cullen didn't get played, ever. It was inconceivable. Women always came easy to me. Mix my dazzling people oriented personality, a face and physique that models envied and combine that with my sexual allure and huge cock, and they practically creamed themselves in my presence. Never in my life had I EVER had a woman walk out on me after sex. It's fine. Call me a cocksure jackass. The media and my near-famous cock helped to make me the monster I am today. I'd made sure of that.
I paced away from the door; my fingers itching to wrap around the door knob, and then her throat. The thought that this was a game to get me unraveled made my blood boil. Growling in frustration, I grabbed the first thing I could reach and hurtled it across the room at the door, furious for letting her get to me.
I realized a moment too late that the first thing I could reach was an antique glass vase that my mother had given me when we first opened the firm. Fuck. My. Life. My mother was going to flip when she noticed it was missing. And as we have already discerned, I love my mother. Period. End of discussion. She could put up pink fluffy curtains and I would say nothing, for that woman owned me, body and soul. She helped me arrange the entire interior of this penthouse, and the vase was the only thing that wasn't put in here the moment I moved in. Yet she saw it, and determined "her baby" just had to have the expensive and somewhat girly dust collector, so she bought it; And then bought the table to put it on. Did I mention she already knew exactly where in the penthouse it was going to go? I digress…
I groaned and dragged my feet over to where the vase was shattered, and then I dropped to my knees to examine to damage. It couldn't be repaired, I knew it. I don't know why, but I desperately grabbed a bowl to throw the pieces in. It was damaged for good. The one thing my mother insisted on me having was damaged. Because of HER.
I knew all too well what the desire to spank Bella felt like, but right now I wanted to damage her. Because I don't condone beating women, I would have to find a way to make her feel the way I was feeling right now. There had to be some way to pay her back for the small but pointed mind-fuck she just dealt me.
She got up and left. That little bitch put on my motherfucking favorite T-Shirt and left like I was a waste of her time. A quick tumble. A joke. I paced back towards the door, glared at it and locked it. Just in case that she-demon decided to come back for her shit. She'd be lucky if I didn't throw it in the fireplace and cheerfully watch it burn.
Whoa! Then we'd never get that Sex Pistol's shirt back.
Good point.
This was all Jasper's fucking fault anyway. "Show her the Edward no one sees." He coaxed. "Try to show you are interested in more than a quick fuck," he implored. When a quick fuck was really all I had wanted in the first place. God Damn It Jasper! I grabbed my phone and dialed his number, ready to rip him a new asshole for making me look like a pussy by luring her in with popcorn and good intentions. She knew it was a front. And she wanted it just as badly as I did; coming here in here with those fuck me shoes on, dressed to kill.
If my anger level wasn't at its peak before, it certainly was once I heard a, "I really hope she listens, darlin'" before Jazz greeted me on the phone. "Hello, Jasper Whitlock here." I heard a tinkerbellesque voice in the background. Who the fuck was with Jazz at this hour?
"You hope who fucking listens to what, Jazz? I hope nobody else listens to your half assed advice, you fucker. It got me absolutely fucking nowhere, and fast!"
"Ed…Edward, what's up dude? I thought you had plans this evening?" he seemed flustered, as if he didn't realize it was me before picking up his phone. Caller ID is a wonder, fucker. I could have sworn I heard a giggle in the background, but I had already surmised he had company, so I ignored it and moved on with my rant.
"Yeah, great fucking idea, Jasper! Let the little bitch see the real me, so she can take off in my fucking Sex Pistols shirt! Your plan totally bit me in the ASS!" I grumbled.
"You let her wear your Sex Pistols shirt, dude?" he responded thoughtfully.
"Don't you overanalyze me, Jasper! Don't make more out of my involvement with the little player any more than it is: dirty hot sex. Because that is all I want from a woman, and you fucking know it. These mind games are the very reason I steer clear of relationships, and YOU of all people should understand that!" I was so pissed, my mouth was running amok.
"I understand heartbreak dude," he quipped back, sounding somewhat guilty about something, which didn't quite make sense.
"Yeah, you should. And you should know to have your best friend's best interest in mind when you give bullshit advice!" I could feel the venom hitting the phone from my seething anger.
"Eddie, you sound really worked up. Do you want to go hit the gym or something? There's a 24 hour gym in the area. You scare me when you get like this, and you know what you were told to do when you get angry like this. You have to let off steam in a healthy way. Let's go box, you game?" he asked me nervously. I chuckled.
"Sure you want to be in a ring with me today?" I questioned, the adrenaline pumping through me so much that I felt unstoppable, nearly immortal. And I desperately wanted to hurt someone, just not necessarily Jasper. I took a few deep breathes, attempting to stop my hands from trembling. "Besides, don't you have company?" I added, a bit calmer.
"Uh…" was all I heard before Jasper proceeded to start muttering nonsense about heels and fumbling with the receiver. He sounded even guiltier, if that made any fucking sense at all. After a quick "I'll met you there in 20," he hung up and I found myself wondering what the fuck was going on with Jazz for him to be so… off. I shrugged, too absorbed in my own melodrama to really worry about Jasper's issues for now.
"You know, it is possible that she was just trying to play you before you played her," Jasper reasoned as we used the punching bags near the ring a half hour later. "You DO have a reputation, after all." He noted, looking at me expectantly, eyebrows raised.
"So she wants to be the bigger slut, Jazz? Is that what you would like me to believe? More than likely she expected me to run after her like a dog in heat. Well fuck that shit, man. I'm not that guy, and you know this." I watched him work out with the double-end bag, glad that boxing was a sport and activity that we both equally enjoyed. It was a definite ease on your anger when you could take it out on a heavy bag like I was currently doing, or practice your skill with the double-end bag like Jazz, where the bag fights back, per se. Our expertise was pretty even since it was a "hobby" we started together.
Don't wiggle your eyebrows. It was male bonding, in a completely non-homosexual atmosphere.
"Perhaps she is looking for more than she knows you will offer," he countered, still playing the devils advocate.
That last defensive statement on Bella's behalf was the straw that broke the camel's back. I mean what the fuck what his goddamn problem?
"DUDE!" I said, stepping forward and grabbing the bag from mid-motion, "whose fucking side are you on? Did you grow a fucking vagina yesterday or something? I mean What. The. Fuck? Did I once, I mean even once, take the cunt Maria's side when she threw you to the curb like an unwanted pet or mock you when you sniveled about getting her back over and over again?" I released the bags and threw my hands in the air, "I thought you were my best friend, man. You are supposed to be on my side, no on the side of some chick you HAVE NEVER BLOODY FUCKING MET!" My eyes widened as I thought of something, and looked at him as the light bulb went off in my head. "Is this about that little pixie girl in my office today?" I hissed, moving to stand not a foot away as I continued, "It is isn't it? Well that is fucking priceless. Thanks so much old friend! Thanks for throwing me to the she-wolves over a bubbly piece of ass!" I threw my gloves to the ground and stormed out of the gym, not looking back to see Jasper's face crumble as he realized what he'd unknowingly done.
Despite it being nearly 2AM, I got in my Eleanor Shelby-since I was so fuming I had open-endedly dismissed Riley-and just drove, anger burning through me as I gripped the wheel. What did Jasper expect from me? Seriously? He understood my "no attachments" clause; at least I thought he did. And why should I be all gaga over this girl when in all actuality we only really spent time together a few limited times. It's not like she SHOULD expect anything from me; to do so would actually be pretty creepy and pathetic. I mean, she was hot, and the sex was phenomenal, but did I want to go pick curtains with the haughty little bitch? Not bloody fucking likely.
I'm sure that is what she expected though: for me to worship the ground she walked on like that asstard of a vampire in that movie we just watched a few hours before. I could vaguely remember some of the slop he uttered, "You have no idea how long I've waited for you." Well, for Miss Isabella Swan's information, this is real fucking life, baby. No glittery vampire is going to rescue you from your boring and rather dismal existence and swear undying devotion to you because you fucking smell good.
She really does smell fucking amazing.
SHUT. UP!
I needed some serious distance here; time to gather what I hadn't lost of my mind. With my mind so hazed with anger, driving probably wasn't my best avenue for escape, however. Going about 95 miles an hour down a windy ass winding road, I raced down the road like an immortal before hearing the blaring horn of a Mac truck that was driving in the center of the road rather than his own fucking lane. BAHHHH the horn blared, the bright lights of the truck almost blinding me. I swerved last minute into a ditch on the side of the road, thankfully breaking before smashing into the tree right in front of me. I sat with my hands on the wheel, trying to catch my breath and calm the fuck down. I glanced over my shoulder to see if the motherfucker even pulled over to see if I was still alive…of course he didn't.
After the near death experience, I slowed my speed to a safe 80 and before I realized it, I was parking in my brother's driveway in East Hampton. Emmett was a bit of a pussy for his girl but he was always there to have my back. Ok a bit of a pussy is putting it mildly. Rosalie Hale wore the fucking pants. Regardless, I was here now and couldn't just pull out of the driveway and leave because the behemoth that was my brother peeked out the fucking window and saw me already, his face lighting up like he just got a new toy. He was out the door before I could lock my car up, grabbing me up from behind in his vice-grip arms for a hug, a fucking hug for god's sake! After a moment of feeling like I was loosing circulation to my lower body, I gasped out, "Emmett…. Can't… Breathe….."
He loosened his grip and peeked over my shoulder, dimply smile still lighting up his face. "Why the surprise visit, Ed? I mean its great and all but Rosie is gonna beat my ass 'cause the house is a bit of a disaster zone. Not really what she finds "company clean".
"Let go of me Emmett, I'm not Fuzzy." Fuzzy was a teddy bear that I gave him as a small child. I was positive the big lummox still had that ratty old teddy bear somewhere around. That bear was with Emmett constantly as a child; you would see this cherubic child, thumb in mouth and ratty old teddy in his arms. Dad tried to take it from him at one point, because he was "too old to carry a teddy bear." Em was four at the time. The little guy had such a fit over it that mom went a bit Amazon on our father. I remember the day like it happened last week and not twenty years ago.
Her beautiful face took on a scowl as she poked my father in the chest with one of her manicured nails. She told him in her mom-voice, "Carlisle Cullen, don't you EVER make my baby boy cry again! He loves that bear because it was a gift from Edward, and if he wants to hug Fuzzy until he is thirty, you WILL LET HIM!"
Yes, it was extreme, and thank fucking god he is not still hugging that goddamn bear, but no one went against my mom's wishes, especially in the rare occasion that she raised her voice. Not even my prestigious father. So needless to say, Dad never brought up that bear again.
"Fuzzy! God that little guy is the best! You wanna see him?" he practically beamed at me.
"Emmett, you really still have that fucking teddy bear? I'm sure he still looks the same…and let go of me, I'm not looking for any 'man-love'." I growled.
Emmett look at me and then let go, staring at my neck in morbid fascination. "Dude! Is that a fucking hickey?"
"What?" I roared as I stormed past him, right into his house and over to the hallway mirror where I glared at the hickey the size of a half-dollar on my lower neck. Fuck. My. Life! The bitch fucking marked me too? Could this day get any fucking worse? I hated that shit. Hickeys were, to me, a tacky way of branding someone as your own personal toy. I was no woman's mother fucking toy. And since I was gentleman enough to not do it to others, I expected them to respect me enough in turn not to mark me in return. I work in a professional environment, surrounded by affluent people, after all. The last thing I need is to be walking around town looking like a cheap and sleazy fuck.
The key word is respect there Cullen. She obviously has none for you. You think she did that on purpose, to make you look like an ass in front of clients?
I turned away from the mirror in disgust and almost walked face first into Fuzzy, which Emmett was holding out in front of him, holding one bear paw in each hand. I raised one eyebrow at my little brother, "Really Emmett? Rosalie didn't chuck that fucking thing out yet?" I mocked, even though it was kind of sweet that my baby bro was so attached to something I gave him as a child. At twenty-four though, I was contemplating suggesting some therapy or something.
"She wouldn't dare!" he yelled in defense as he hugged the frail little stuffed animal to his chest like it was in mortal danger. So he does still hug it. "Rosalie understands Fuzzy, doesn't she bud?" he asked the bear, the bear! Then he leans in like the goddamn thing was going to answer his sorry ass. I rolled my eyes as I watched my child-man of a brother, losing his ever loving mind.
"Where is Rosie, Em?" I asked hesitantly. Realizing how close Bella and Rose were, it suddenly hit me that this was probably not the best place to go to get away from all the bullshit.
"Um, not too sure, Ed." He answered as he scratched his head. "She left about an hour ago to go see Bella about something." He shrugged, so clueless. Then again if he'd asked her why she was leaving in the middle of the night she'd probably sarcastically tell him it was to go find proper scissors to cut his balls off with.
I groaned in response, rubbing my hand over my eyes in frustration. "Well at least she isn't here," I mumbled.
"Why dude? What's up? Something on your mind?" he asked calmly, "You know I got your back, bro. Talk to me man." He clamped his hand on my shoulder and shook me slightly, a silent nudge to get me to open up. The flood gates opened, and I told my baby brother everything; starting with the party, and ending with my near death experience before arriving safely here. We hadn't even taken the time to sit down; just stood in the hallway of his home as I ranted about Jasper and how I felt betrayed. Emmett said nothing, just let me say everything on my mind without interruption. I even told him about the vase I broke, and to that he got all choked up.
I let out a sigh as I finished explaining how I unknowingly drove out here, to which he let out a huge dimpled grin. "That's because you knew who had your back Ed. I'm always gonna be here for you, bro!" he exclaimed, pulling me in for yet another really unmanly hug.
"Em, please. Oxygen…" I fake gasped as the big buffoon swung me around like a rag doll, before walking over to their bar and dropping me on a stool.
"You need a drink, bro. What's your poison?" he asked as he slapped his hands on the bartop.
"He should drink some poison, if you want my opinion on the matter." Rosalie snarked as she stormed into the den, unannounced, her heels clacking on the wooden floor.
Before I could even react, and if I wouldn't have seen it with my own eyes, I never would have believed what I saw next, never in a million years. My brother, the happy go lucky, pussy whipped Emmett's lip started to curl and shake as his usually happy face changed into a sneer. He glared at his long-time, live-in fiancé and in a tone I had never heard, he growled, "Rosalie, SHUT. THE. FUCK. UP! I know you two have never seen eye to eye and that's fine, but don't fucking talk to my brother that way! You have no god damn idea what he is going through!" he huffed, holding a strong stare at her.
Rose's face turned as white as a ghost as she stood there, eyes wide, gaping at him like a fish out of water. She started sputtering "I..what… I…" then turned on her heels and booked it out of the den and up the stairs, the bedroom door slamming once she was through it. And Emmett just watched; face still furious, until she was out of sight. Once he heard the door close, he looked back at me and his face softened. "Where were we, bro? Oh! What's your poison?"
"Just give me a…." SLAM! It sounded like their bedroom door was almost off the hinges at this point.
Like a blur, Rosalie flew past us and out of the front door, bulging tote in hand. Oh shit. Emmett and I just stared at each other as we heard her car roar to a start and retreat down the gravel driveway.
Review is love! Are you on Team Edward or Team Bella?
