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TEN
As the engine roared through the tense silence I raked my memory searching for clues. How had I skipped over the fact he was a secret agent. Edward had said little since we left the house. He had called Alice and Emmett warning them to not return to the house. Emmett agreed to stay with Rosalie. I realised my phone was back on the nightstand where I'd left it before we got heated. I had no time to pick it up. I wondered if Rosalie had at least done better than me.
"You cold?" He asks suddenly.
I still wore no pants. All dressed up planning to impress the man I am seeing to be in his car racing away from other men who wanted us dead.
"I'm a lot of things. But cold isn't one of them," I say sharply.
"Okay I know how this looks," he holds his hands up in surrender against the wheel, "I need to get us to Seattle. Then we can make plans to continue on."
"Wait you mean they're coming after us? Why can't I just go home? What did you do?" I demand.
"In my line of work you make enemies. Someone could follow me. I'm not leading them to your house," he says, "I got out. My family begged me to get out after a major bust last year. We moved my family to Forks to protect them. I kept to Seattle to keep away from them. We thought the occasional visit would be fine. The men chasing us are criminal traffickers. The worst I've come across. I put their leader behind bars who was planning to attack a cruise ship in Florida for drugs which were concealed on board. He trafficked women and murdered many other men who got in his way. I tracked him for months and got him. Now he's pissed and I bet orchestrating this from jail. We need to get hidden and come up with a plan."
My fingernails dig into the leather of the seat as he weaves around other cars. Furiously the other drivers honk their horns. How did I of all people manage to get wound up with a guy like this? All I ever did was cut his sister's hair.
"Don't panic," he says simply.
"Seriously? Why would you not tell me about this? You're an FBI agent? I fucking illegally downloaded a movie and told you about it," I say.
"I'll punish you for that in an unethical manner. Maybe my hand to your sexy ass?" he winks at me.
"Edward!" I say sharply.
"Sorry. It's just your legs exposed like that make me want to pull over and risk it all. I'm in a sector of the FBI. Specially trained to take out major criminals that have been on our wanted list for years. James is now in prison on death row for his crimes," he explains, "I can take them and keep you safe. I just need to get home."
"Won't they know where you live?" I demand.
"Possibly but there's shit I need there. We won't stay there long. We'll pick up my stuff and then head to the airport. I'll have a jet waiting for us. We'll fly somewhere low key. I have to organise shit for my family too," he says, "The bad guys don't really know who they are but they'll see pictures at my parent's house."
"Why would you not mention the fact you're a spy on our first date?" I ask.
"I'm sorry. It's just difficult to explain. Technically I'm not a spy. I'm a very undercover cop," he says.
"Not really," I say.
"I really like, ou Bella. I didn't want to scare you away," he says, "I thought if you knew you wouldn't look at me like you do."
I was unable to respond to him without swearing. So I didn't. I sat quietly, arms crossed glaring out at the dark highway.
"I think you're the most beautiful woman I've met. Dating isn't something I've had much of a chance to do. When I saw you I instantly wanted to be someone else. So I could have the chance to take you out to dinner, take you to meet my parents. Maybe even slowly fall in love with you. I could see that happening easily," he says.
"How far are we from your house?" I say changing the subject.
"About 30 minutes," he says a hint of disappointment obvious.
Those 30 minutes drag out despite the speed he drives. I think about what he said. Could a relationship even be possible with a man like this? Each second ticks loudly until we're pulling up to a large apartment block on a busy Seattle street. He pulls up to a spot beside a lift and swings himself from the car. He pulls open my door and pulls me out from my seat. Like I'm a feather he pulls me toward the elevator careless to the fact I'm still half naked.
"When we get to the top wait in the hallway while I check and make sure no one is already inside. Come in when I call you," he instructs pulling a gun from his waistline.
If this were some Bond film I'd be turned on by the picture of Edward taking a gun from his pants. Abs and the perfect V on display to me. Right now I was terrified. As we arrive at his apartment door I do as he asks. A few minutes pass before I hear my name. No guns. We're off to a good start.
I follow the direction the voice came from. It leads me to a room with black walls. Each with various guns and knives lining the walls.
"Holy cow," I say scanning everywhere.
"Stay close," he instructs as he races around the room throwing things into a duffle bag.
"When I pictured coming to your house I expected you to cook for me, then give me a nice massage. To have sex on the couch maybe. Not a room overflowing with weapons," I say.
"You want me to cook for you? I can cook for you," he shrugs.
"I wouldn't say no to pasta," I say.
The crooked smile on his face makes my heart flutter. I curse it for reacting. I was so angry at him for Hannah Montana-ing me. My body hadn't got the memo, still responding to each attraction I held for him.
"Let's get going," he says grabbing for my hand.
I let him take it and allow him to pull me back toward the exit.
"Do you happen to have pants?" I ask pointing down at my exposed legs.
"Why? You look nice like that. I say it's a bad idea. How on earth will I have easy access with pants on you?" he smiles.
"Edward," I snap.
Chuckling he pulls me toward what I assume is his bedroom. His apartment is spacious. The ultimate bach pad. His room is massive. The bed is a giant fortress facing out toward the Seattle city. Two of the walls in the room are windows and the other two are coated with a black paint. He leaves me standing by the bed to duck into his closet in the corner of the room. He throws me a pair of black track pants. They look too big but they're my only option.
"There," he says simply.
Before I'm given the chance to slip them on the glass behind us shatters. I feel him pull me to him as gun fire explodes into the room. He throws me down to the floor behind the bed and ducks over the bed to return fire. His body shelters mine. My eyes are squeezed shut, hands over my ears.
I don't realise the exchange is over until Edward is pulling me up and toward the bedroom door. I run beside him and squeal as he fires shots at men in the hallway. They crumple.
"Oh god," I gasp staring down at their now lifeless bodies.
"Come on," he growls.
When I stop to have a meltdown he scoops me up flinging me over his shoulder.
"We have to move," he yells.
Defeated he carries me down to the car. Once I'm inside I absentmindedly pull my belt on. He pulls himself in chucking his bag behind us.
"I told you pants were a bad idea," he winks at me.
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