I know, I know. It's a few days late. What can I say? I was in a premature Turkey coma! I hope everyone had a good Thanksgiving - for everyone who had one.
So, I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Just a few more to go, I think.
And I'm surprised. No one had anything to say about Carlisle's family business? Is it just so commonplace now that everyone expected it?
All right, well. Read on!
Push & Pull
Back then.
It was more difficult to wake Lucy than Edward had believed it would be as she laid in his arms for the third night in a row. But they were so close to Chicago, and in order for his plans to be played out right, certain things had to happen in the right order. For one, she couldn't have time to shower or eat, and he didn't want to contemplate how anyone else would perceive his behavior. His father would have no choice if they showed up in the early morning hours with nowhere else to go.
Instead of giving Lucy time to change, Edward gathered up the clothes they had left along with the money and other things Siobhan had given him, checking out of the hotel before he carried Lucy to the car. Pulling into the driveway in a car exactly like his father's would surely raise a few eyebrows. Edward didn't care. If it showed his father where he'd been and what he'd done, so be it. No amount of stalling the inevitable would stop this now.
Lucy went right back to sleep as soon as Edward had her buckled in the front seat. He pulled away from the front of the hotel they'd stopped at only a few hours earlier, never looking back.
The dark and the silence gave Edward more time to think than he wanted. It wasn't going to be easy convincing his father of his indiscretions, and it was going to feel wrong the whole time. Edward didn't have a choice. There was so much at stake now, and it was all his fault. If Edward hadn't gone to Las Vegas knowing Liam was there, none of this would've happened. He could've picked anyone else to antagonize, and none of them would've sent a detail of hitmen to take out an innocent family. It didn't matter how much Lucy tried to place a lot of the blame on Bella's shoulders. Edward had allowed all of this to happen.
Driving and thinking made Edward remember the first time he'd argued with his father about Elizabeth — more vigorously than any other time.
"You're eighteen," his father told him. "You have to start thinking about your future. Elizabeth would want that."
"She wanted me to make my own choices," Edward argued. "I'm not graduating for another three months. Why is this so important now?"
His father didn't say anything for a minute, sitting behind his desk and sipping on a glass of Scotch. Edward hated sitting in here and listening to his father lay down the rules for another year. He was so close to being free to do what he wanted. Why did his father have to ruin it now?
"I don't want you to go off to Harvard without knowing what you're going to do there," his father insisted.
"I'm not going to Harvard," Edward yelled. "I don't want that. Keep Jasper around for your little company meetings. Elizabeth wanted me to live my life, not yours! Why can't you understand that after everything that's happened?"
"You're young, and you think you know what you want. I know what you need."
"No, you don't think I can make the right choice that you'll be happy with," Edward accused. "Please don't do this now. I have practice this afternoon."
"I called Mrs. Cope and told her you won't be coming," his father announced. "She won't be expecting you. You're going to spend the next three months focusing on your other studies. I entertained Elizabeth's dreams of you playing, but it's time for you to be more serious about the rest of your schoolwork. It was a hobby, nothing more."
"You had no right to do that," Edward exclaimed. "It wasn't just her. I wanted it too! I always wanted it. You and Mother always hated how much attention she gave me. And now I hate you!"
He turned and left without letting his father stop him, running away from the house angrier than he'd ever been in his life.
That night Edward had gone out drinking for the first time in months, meeting a girl at a bar in town and nearly ending up in bed with her before he tried to drive home drunker than he'd been since Christmas. He hadn't even realized the girl was in the car with him or that he wasn't paying attention to anything around him. The other car had literally come out of nowhere in his memory, and when he'd wrapped his car around a light pole, it had only taken a few minutes for him to realize what was happening. He'd broken his arm and gotten a concussion. The girl was dead. Despite the whole thing being his fault, Edward still hadn't forgiven his father for making him so angry as to kill another person — however indirectly.
Now it felt like their roles were somewhat reversed. For years, his father had lied to him about Elizabeth in a misguided attempt to protect him, and now Edward found himself in a position where he would have to lie to his father to keep him safe. It couldn't be much worse. If Liam found them before Siobhan could do anything, it would all be for nothing. Edward had to at least try to keep his family safe. Until Siobhan had everything on her end under control, it was all he could do.
It was almost one in the morning when Edward crossed the border into Illinois, and he couldn't help but feel a little backward from the way he'd left. Five days earlier, he and Bella had set out for the desert under much different circumstances, ready to do whatever they wanted without anyone to stop them. Now that he was returning, Edward had wanted it to be on completely different terms. He'd wanted to show his father he couldn't control him no matter what school he graduated from. But everything was so different now. It felt wrong.
The traffic was light until he crossed Highway 51. Despite the hour, there were enough people driving to and from the city to make Edward a little nervous. The motion of the car finally woke Lucy, and she turned her head toward the window before she spoke.
"Where are we?" she asked softly.
"Just outside Chicago," he reported.
"What time is it?"
"After two."
She exhaled quietly, laying her head against the seat and reaching for his hand. It surprised him, but they'd been in close quarters the last few days. He understood that she was accustomed to his presence. Now it was all about to end.
Her hand squeezed his gently. "Are you still sure you want to do this?"
Though Edward wasn't any more sure of his actions now than he had been at eighteen, he couldn't stop now that he was so close. "I have to."
She didn't respond after that, her breathing evening out as she relaxed again. He thought she might release his hand, but she didn't. Edward didn't move away from her. If it was all he had left, he would take it.
Before taking the main entrance into the city, Edward turned off the interstate to drive to his father's estate. Down this road, there was very little traffic especially since not many people came this way, and it was quiet and dark until he was only a few miles from the house. His phone rang then, and much to his amazement, it was Tanya.
"Tanya," he answered.
"Are you home?" she asked in an uncharacteristically serious tone.
"Of course," he lied. "Why?"
"I just got the strangest phone call from a man who wouldn't tell me his name saying he saw you in Las Vegas with a little brunette on your arm. Normally, I wouldn't care, especially after we talked at Christmas, but it sounded like he was looking for you. Edward, what have you gotten yourself into now?"
He glanced at Lucy to see her still asleep. Who could possibly be calling Tanya about him? And at nearly three in the morning. The only way anyone could've known about her was if Bella had told them. An image of James flashed through his mind, and Edward nearly pressed his foot to the brake to stop in the middle of the road.
"Edward," Tanya said. "Is everything okay?"
He hesitated, breathing deep and slowing down as he approached the driveway to his father's house.
"Edward — "
"What did this man sound like?" he asked, hoping she would remember something about his voice or the way he spoke.
"I don't know. He sounded like a man."
"Think," he pleaded. "It's important."
"Why is it so important if you're home?"
Again, Edward glanced at Lucy. "It's complicated."
She paused. "Well," she said after a minute, "his voice wasn't too deep or rough, and he spoke a little too articulated. Like a man with no college education trying to sound like he was a business student from Cal-Tech. You know, like Jasper."
Edward sighed heavily as he pulled up the tall gates of his father's house, and he sat there for a minute. "Yeah, I know. And he just said he saw me? He didn't ask where I was?"
"Not in those words," she confirmed. "It just sounded like he was looking for you. I honestly don't know why he called me in the first place. Edward, who have you been talking to? I thought we were passed this."
"We are," he insisted. "I swear. I just might've mentioned your name when someone asked me . . . something. I promise, it's not about you. And I'm sorry if they woke you."
"Oh, I was up," she said nonchalantly.
Despite himself, Edward smiled. "Oh, really?"
"Yeah. Katie's got me looking at all these designs for Esme's new collection. We're probably going to have them ready in a couple of weeks."
He laughed softly. "Well, that sounds good."
She giggled. "It's fun. I like it."
"I have to go, but thanks for calling."
"Of course. Just be careful, Edward."
Gently, he bit his lip. "I will. Bye."
"Bye, babe."
He turned off his phone, still kind of smiling despite sitting in front of his father's house. A deep, cleansing breath passed his lips, and Edward reached out to use his key on the gate. The guard usually here was probably up at the house, and that was momentarily beneficial. On the way up the drive, Edward thought about everything Tanya had said.
He was surprised she'd called him, but after talking and squaring things away on Christmas, it shouldn't have surprised him at all. They were much more than simply acquaintances now, but it would be a long time before they were actually friends despite their fathers working so closely together. It worried him that someone who could very well turn out to be James had called her and involved her in this.
What was James trying to do?
Edward was worried enough about his father as it was. Now it was very possible that no one he knew would be safe. There was no way Edward could protect an entire myriad of people just because they'd crossed his path over the last six years. If no one he even knew was safe, how was he supposed to keep his family out of danger?
The front lawn was lit up like a Christmas tree as he eased along the drive, and he remembered how much Esme liked for everything to be visible. She was always changing the hedges and having new flowers planted. With it being spring, she probably had an entire truck of shrubs and flora hidden somewhere on the grounds ready for her to do something with it. This was probably going to upset her so much. He hadn't been thinking about her when he'd gone to Siobhan two days earlier, but how could he have known?
She'd practically raised him, and even though they'd had their differences over the years, she was his mother in every way that counted. It was wrong that he'd blamed her for part of this when his father had been mostly responsible for it. The last time he'd really argued with her, he'd been seventeen and still going for piano lessons with Mrs. Cope at the high school. It had been the same as he argument with his father, and the result had been no better.
"I just want you to know for sure if this is what you want to do," she cried, already having tried to persuade him to stop taking lessons.
"This is what I want," he shouted. "How can you even think about asking me this? I've been doing this for nine years. It's all I know."
"That's exactly my point. You've never tried to even do anything else, and as wonderfully as you play, doing this isn't always going to be so easy. Edward, darling, please. I love you. I just want what's best for you."
"You and Father are exactly the same," he accused. "You both say you only want what's best, but you never stop to think about what I really want. You just don't want me to do something Elizabeth taught me to do."
"That's not it, and you know it," she shrieked. "You're my son. I just don't want you to struggle. I just want you to try other things. There are so many other things for you to do, and I don't want you to miss out on anything. All you ever do is practice."
"I had a recital two weeks ago that you didn't come to," Edward spat. "I do a lot more than practice!"
She stepped closer to him, holding onto him even as he tried to back away. Though he was only seventeen, he was already six-feet tall, and her head barely came to his shoulders. "I'm sorry," she pleaded. "I didn't mean it like that. And I tried to make it to your recital. I told you I had to work, and it couldn't be avoided."
"Elizabeth would've come," he spat, pulling his arms from her hands and turning to hurry upstairs.
"Edward, please. I'm sorry!"
He hadn't talked to her for a week after that, and she hadn't brought up the subject again. She'd cancelled five meetings with her store's manager to make his recitals after that, but even if she'd come, he'd been able to see how preoccupied she was with everything else. He knew she loved him, but now he knew why she'd always passed him over. He didn't really belong to her, and she probably kept telling herself she would make it up to him eventually.
That time had already passed, but Edward hoped it wasn't too late.
The front of the house looked more foreboding than he remembered, even when he'd been little, and he kept telling himself it was now or never.
Never was preferable to what he was about to do.
Edward didn't give Lucy a chance to wake up. He didn't get anything out of the car to take in with him. He hadn't shaved in nearly three days. He was hungry and in need of his own shower, but the important thing was that Lucy would be safe here. After a little more contemplation than he needed, Edward rose from the car and moved around to the passenger door. Lucy didn't stir as he unbuckled her and then lifted her out of the seat. She laid her head over his shoulder and made a little noise that told him she was still asleep.
Without much else, Edward moved away from the car and hurried up the steps to the front door. Though his hands were decidedly full, he felt stupid ringing the doorbell. When Riley answered the door looking disheveled and half asleep, there was no turning back.
"I need my father."
These Days.
"Honestly, Carlisle, I don't know what you expect me to say."
"I expect you to tell me the truth, Siobhan," he demanded. "Especially where my son is concerned. Tell me what you know."
"I told you I only saw Edward when he played Liam in the Casinos," she insisted, sounding more reluctant now than she had the morning night. "It lasted a couple of hours. There was nothing else."
A cleansing breath wasn't enough to keep Carlisle calm as he sat in the front part of the jet's cabin alone. Lucy hadn't returned from the back, and Jasper was sulking in the midway with a drink in his hand.
"You understand that if I don't know what happened, Edward could go to prison. He's only 24 years old. And I know he didn't do this — not in the way he wants me to believe. He wouldn't mention you unless you were involved."
She hesitated still, and Carlisle couldn't stop the wheels in his head turning. The last time he'd been in a situation where Siobhan was involved, he'd gotten caught in Liam's crossfire — literally. Carlisle couldn't think about something like that happening to Edward.
"I'm sorry, Carlisle," she said after a minute. "But you really have to talk to Edward if you want to know anything. It's not mine to tell you."
"Then there is more," he accused. "What is going on?"
"I'm sorry," she said again, hanging up on him before he could say anything else.
More than just anger continued to flood his body. Now he was confused. What was so important that Siobhan couldn't tell him when she knew that Edward wouldn't? Did it really have something to do with Liam?
Didn't she know if it was Maggie he wouldn't hesitate to tell her to keep her daughter safe?
I pushed all of Liam's buttons.
The fear in Edward's voice echoed in Carlisle's mind more prominently than it had in the few days since all this had started.
Carlisle knew all about pushing that son of a bitch's weak points. If there was one thing you never did, it was to highlight any of Liam's weaknesses when it came to being the head of his business or his family. Siobhan still had control over her father's business matters despite the bastard still breathing, but when Connor and Murphy had joined their companies all those years ago, Liam had automatically begun running things like he owned it.
The money, attitude and firepower had all gone to Liam's head too quickly, and while most of the McManus employees had been absorbed with his father's — and by extension, his — the few people who'd refused to bow had all conveniently disappeared. Carlisle didn't think it was possible for Siobhan to still have any of the handlers she'd had when they'd been together.
If Edward had threatened or thwarted that in any way, there was no measure to how hard of a blow Liam would deliver.
Was that what Edward had meant?
All this time, had he been trying to tell Carlisle something was going on even if he hadn't really said anything?
"Mr. Cullen, we're approaching Las Vegas."
"Tell my son," he ordered, clearing his mind as quickly as he could.
Jasper only returned to his seat next to his father when the flight attendants asked him to sit down with his seat belt on. Carlisle watched a little uneasy about the argument he knew would be coming after they got to the house, but he was more concerned with how Lucy was adjusting. Based on her breathing and the discomfort on her face, Carlisle guessed she wasn't accustomed to it.
"It helps if you don't breathe too deep," he said from across the aisle.
"Sorry," she whispered. "It's just been a long time. I haven't really been on plane since my brother and I were flying back to Texas from Los Angeles a few years ago."
He smiled and glanced at Jasper. His eldest son had the most sour look on his face. "It's all right," Carlisle assured her.
The landing was smoother than it had been the last time he was in Vegas, and he remembered it had been right after a rare rain storm than had dumped nearly six inches of water on the city. Today, it was sunny and warm — and completely out of sync with what he was in the city to do. Of course, now that his trip was personal and not business, it made sense.
Only a moment after they were still, Jasper got up without saying anything to his father or Lucy, and the flight attendant tried to smile at her employer as she directed them to the exit.
"Enjoy your stay, Mr. Cullen," she said softly.
He bowed his head appreciatively. "Thank you, Jane."
He guided Lucy to the steps then, helping her down and then arriving on the tarmac so he could walk her to the car.
After talking to Siobhan and basically getting no more information out of her than he'd been able to piece together himself, Carlisle was only certain of one thing. This was only just beginning.
The drive from the airport to the house Carlisle had on the outskirts of Las Vegas took probably thirty minutes. Jasper continued to sulk in the seat next to him, and Lucy sat quietly across the back of the limousine that carried them smoothly through the flat surface of the desert surrounding them.
Carlisle expected Peter to be at the house when they pulled up. Instead, his phone rang just as he stepped out of the car.
"Where are you?" Peter asked him, his voice calm and even upbeat.
"We've just arrived at the house. How is he?"
"They just finished processing him. I talked to one of my guards, and they let me walk with him to isolation. I've also spoken to a judge here in Clark County, and he's agreed to see me this afternoon to talk about a bail bondsman."
Carlisle watched Jasper and Lucy enter the house before he turned away to face the driveway. "What does this mean?" he asked Peter.
"The arraignment is scheduled for nine tomorrow morning," the defense attorney reported. "If I can convince the judge that Edward's safety is in jeopardy, he'll agree to the bail bondsman. I know a good one in the city, and she'll bring Edward to the house there to set him up."
"What about a trial?"
Peter hesitated, but it didn't sound like he didn't know what he was going to say. Though he said nothing, Carlisle got the impression he was holding something back.
The idea of Siobhan keeping things from him made Carlisle angry enough. Edward wasn't being forthcoming for whatever reason, and now Peter was keeping him in the dark. Carlisle had been through enough.
"Listen," he said firmly. "It doesn't matter to me what Liam McDonnel might have to do with this. And I don't give a shit about what he thinks he's capable of doing to me. But this about my son. I've known you a long time, Peter. I trust you. If you're keeping something important from me, don't. Or you can go back to Chicago, and I'll do this myself."
After half a minute of silence, Peter spoke a little less carelessly. "I apologize, Carlisle. It's just that with Edward not wanting the DA to talk to Lucy, and her being the only witness to question, it puts her in a precarious position. And now the DA here knows what Eleazar knows. They're going to ask about her, and I can only keep her from them for so long."
Carlisle huffed. "And what does that have to do with a trial for Edward?"
"Your son isn't just trying to protect her, Carlisle. He's lying about something. And until I know what he's lying about, I can't keep the DA here from deposing her."
The attorney in Carlisle kept telling him the police here had all the evidence, and they had every right to question Lucy — not only as a witness, but also as a victim. It didn't matter that she had limited senses. She'd heard everything, and that made her very valuable.
"Did you tell any of this to Edward?" Carlisle asked, turning back to his house.
"I didn't need to," Peter revealed. "I think he already knows. Like I said, he's lying about something."
"Will he be safe tonight? The guards you know will keep him from the other prisoners until the arraignment?"
"Yes, they will."
With much more determination than he'd had the night before when he'd spoken to Edward for the first time since learning about this, Carlisle started toward the house. "Come out here now," he ordered. "And bring whatever you need to take a witness' statement."
Peter didn't hesitate this time. "I'll be right there."
In the half hour or so it would take Peter to get to the house, Jasper seemed to calm down, finding his father in the library after the older man settled in there to wait.
For a few minutes after entering the room, Jasper didn't say anything, sitting in a chair across from the lounge chair where Carlisle had settled with a morning paper and coffee. The headlines were typical of a metropolis like Las Vegas. A family of three had been killed several days earlier, and the police were suspecting it was gang-related with the way each member of the family had been shot several times with automatic weapons. The style was a little conspicuous, which was why Carlisle never resorted to guns and knives to get the result he wanted. Food poisoning or accidental overdoses usually drew less unwanted attention from his experience.
"I'm still not okay with this," Jasper said suddenly. "But given the circumstances, it's probably best that I not lose any of my composure right now."
Carlisle turned the paper over to keep reading, listening but also concentrating on the way his son breathed and fidgeted.
"Were you ever going to tell me?" Jasper pleaded. "Does Mother know? Rose?"
Before he could read the whole page, Carlisle put the paper away and turned to face his eldest son. "I hadn't planned on telling Edward," he admitted. "I never wanted him to know because I was afraid he would think less of Elizabeth. The exact opposite ended up happening, in spades unfortunately. And yes, your mother knows. Through complicated circumstances, I was forced to reveal it to her when Edward was five. Needless to say, she wasn't happy with what I'd done."
"And Rose? Does she know this?"
Carlisle leaned over his legs with his hands clasped in front of him. "I honestly don't know. She isn't unobservant or even ignorant. But she's never said she suspects anything."
Jasper inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring slightly as he looked away.
"You have every right to be angry, Jasper," Carlisle allowed. "I'm not proud of what I did, but it was out of my control after it was done. And I won't treat Edward any different than I've treated you or your sister. Edward is still your brother. He still needs you, and I need you."
"What about Siobhan?" Jasper asked while still looking away.
Carlisle didn't need any clarification given what they were discussing. And he couldn't lie. "Yes," he conceded. "When Edward and Elizabeth were in the hospital, Siobhan came to see me. She saw the resemblance in them immediately."
Jasper looked at his father, something in his eyes changing from anger to indifference. "And Grandfather's business? Would you have told me about that if none of this had happened?"
Again, Carlisle couldn't lie, especially given how complicated everything had become in the last 18 hours. "No. Until now, it's been completely hidden. Revealing it to you would've meant involving you, and I couldn't put you in front of me that way. Most of the men I deal with are accustomed to the way I do things, and seeing you with me could cause them to question your presence. You're my son, Jasper. It's my job to protect you. I swore to your mother I would when you were born, and despite the mistakes I've made, she still trusts me with your life. I won't ever put that on the line."
"And now that I know? What am I supposed to do?"
The front door opened then, and Carlisle glanced at the cracked doors of his library before looking at Jasper again.
"You're an adult, Jasper. You can make your own choices. But before you do that, think of the life you have now. Think of Alice. And ask yourself if you would willingly put her in danger. I have to ask myself that question every morning."
With that, Carlisle stood up and moved to the library doors, discovering Peter in the front foyer alone. Jasper followed him slowly.
"Will Edward have the same choice?" he asked his father.
Carlisle didn't hesitate, even though he wasn't sure it was an option anymore. "Of course."
When they both stepped into the foyer to greet Peter, Jasper only nodded and turned to go back upstairs. Carlisle watched with more confusion and concern than he'd had in six months. It wasn't just that Jasper was asking questions now, but he looked like he was contemplating doing what his father did. Yes, Jasper was a capable partner in the practice, and he brought in several of their wealthier clients. But Carlisle didn't want his son to live a double life. He honestly didn't think Jasper could handle it.
"Everything all right?" Peter asked.
Still watching Jasper, Carlisle only sighed. "Everything will be fine once this is over. Did you bring everything you need?"
Peter nodded. "I did. But I don't know how much good it will do."
Carlisle turned to face him. "And exactly why is that? She was there, and she knows something other than what she's telling me. She said something on the way here that makes me believe none of this is what it seems. Whether Edward is lying or not, I think I know why he's doing it."
Together, they moved to the staircase, and Peter glanced around the house.
"Minimal staff, huh?" he noted.
"For now. Jane and Maria should be here later this afternoon after retrieving everything from the jet. Do you need anything? I'm sure I can manage."
Peter smiled. "No, I'm good. I was just remembering the last time it was like this. Jasper had me over at New Year's, and most of the staff had the night off. I sometimes forget how often you Cullens like to pretend you're normal people."
To that, Carlisle didn't comment, but he knew it was true. Even though he tried to behave like he was just a regular guy, Carlisle realized no one in his family would ever be regular. There were days when he didn't like it — like today. But it was just the truth. Now that Edward was so deep into this mess, the fact that he would never be normal was becoming more obvious and unsettling.
They arrived on the second floor of the house silently, and Carlisle led the way to Lucy's room. The lone maid in the house was currently leaving the room with towels in her arms, and when she saw Carlisle, she bowed her head and left. He looked at Peter and then stepped into the room.
Lucy was sitting in a chair near the windows, and she turned her head to the door as Carlisle moved closer to her. His shoes clicked against the floor as he walked; the instant he was close, she turned in her chair to face him.
"Lucy," he said, pulling a chair up to sit in front of her. "Are you all right?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" she huffed. "I'm not some china doll that's going to break if you do something I don't like."
He glanced at Peter. "I apologize. It's simply within my nature to make sure people are comfortable. You've been through so much. I don't want to make it worse."
"It couldn't get much worse than me losing my brother," she clarified. She turned her head in Peter's direction. "Why are you here?"
The defense attorney laughed nervously and stepped closer. "I'm sorry for my manners, Ms. Wilson. I'm Peter Jackson," he said, reaching for her hand to take it in his. "Mr. Cullen — Well, let's just say I'm trying to keep his son from going to prison. And I think you can help me with that."
Her eyebrows furrowed. "And what makes you think that?"
Peter gestured for Carlisle to trade places with him, and reluctantly, he stood so Peter could sit down. "I'm sorry for what happened to you," he insisted. "I can't even begin to imagine what it must've been like. Edward told me what happened to the two of you. He told me he's trying to protect you from a trial, and I would normally be inclined to believe him. But there's something I don't understand."
She shook her head. "What do you not understand?"
Again, Peter glanced at Carlisle, hesitating.
Annoyed, Carlisle stepped away from the bed, leaving the room but stopping outside the door. Whether Peter was trying to defend Edward or get the truth out of Lucy, Carlisle wasn't going to be kept out of this any longer — even if it meant he had to continue listening to conversations that could potentially change the way he saw his son.
"Carlisle tells me you said something on the way here that makes him believe none of this is right," Peter said to Lucy.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied.
"I think you do," he insisted. "And I think Edward knows too. The only question I really need answered is why you haven't said anything to anyone else about what really happened."
"If he told you, then why should I have to?"
Peter laughed softly. "Because your point-of-view is quite different than his, trust me. He obviously feels responsible for what happened to you, and I understand why he wants you to be safe. But the longer this goes on without important people knowing the truth, the harder it's going to be for me to help him. And I can see that you know what that means."
She scoffed. "Was that a blind joke?"
"No," he said quickly. "And it's not just that I can see it. I was told in law school that I had an instinct about whether someone was guilty or not. My professors told me I'd be a good defense attorney if I stayed away from Pro Bono work. I can hear it in your voice, Lucy. Something's not right about this."
Carlisle stepped into the crack of the door he'd left open, and when he saw Lucy's eyes on the door, he thought for a split second that she could see him. But that wasn't possible, and he realized she was only listening to where he'd gone.
"Lucy," Peter said. "I only want to help Edward get through this, and that by extension means I want to help you too. No matter what you tell me, it's just between you and me. As an attorney, I have to keep it between us."
"How do I know I can trust you?"
"Well, unlike anyone else who could simply tell you what you need to hear and then use it against you, I swore an oath."
"I thought lawyers were supposed to protect the innocent and punish the guilty," she commented.
Peter nodded. "That's right. And I think that's exactly what I'm trying to do now. Because I don't think I've ever been more certain than I am now that both you and Edward are innocent in the largest part of this. Am I right?"
Lucy neither confirmed nor denied his statement, and it made Carlisle think to when Edward had come home with her so many days earlier.
Even after being in the county jail for two days, Edward had continued to ask about her. Whether she'd known he was in the house or not, Lucy had asked for Edward before anyone else, and his son had spoken to her before being taken by the Commissioner.
What had they spoken about?
Why was it so important for something like this to be kept between the two of them?
"Lucy," Peter said again. "I have some questions for you, and I need you to answer me as honestly as you can. All right?"
His questions seemed to annoy her, but she didn't say 'no'.
"How did you meet Edward?"
She didn't speak for a couple of minutes, turning her head back to the window. "My brother left me in the hotel bar so he could go to the casino. I was sitting there when Edward came up and ordered a drink."
"What did he order?"
"Vodka on the rocks," she said plainly. "He sounded stressed, like he'd already had a lot happen. I don't know why, but I felt compelled to talk to him."
"You seem like a good judge of character," Peter complimented. "Did it seem like Edward was being pressured or even forced to be there?"
She shook her head. "No. It felt more like he was trying to get away from something, but he never said what. Mike came back then, and we left the bar."
"Did it feel like he wanted you to stay?"
Lucy shrugged. "We talked for fifteen minutes. I didn't really think about him after that. Not until later."
Peter leaned closer, lowering his voice. Carlisle had to strain to hear him. "Did Isabella Swan take you from your hotel room that night?"
Again, Lucy hesitated, and Carlisle watched the expression on her face change. Gone was the stubborn, strong young woman she tried to be on the outside. Now she looked scared and worried. "Someone knocked on the door to our hotel room. My bedroom was closer, and my door was open. I guess Mike didn't hear it. I only remember opening the door and someone's big hands grabbing me. Then water splashed in my face, and I heard her. She called me a — Well, I won't repeat it, but it wasn't the only time she said it."
"Do you remember anything else about her?"
"You mean other than the fact that she was crazy? No. And she kept saying I took him away from her."
"Edward?"
Lucy nodded. "I kept trying to tell her that I didn't even know who she was talking about. She wouldn't listen. She said she was going to make sure he knew what I was and what he was, and that was when she wasn't using a knife on me."
"She tortured you?"
Without saying anything, Lucy extended her left arm and pulled off the gauze that covered her. "She kept saying this too. And then she decided to make sure I remembered it. I might not be able to see it, but it's always going to be there now."
Peter shook his head. "I'm sorry, Lucy. No one should ever have to go through anything like that." He paused and sat up straight. "Edward said he didn't know where Ms. Swan is. Do you know?"
"No, I don't. And I don't care."
The issue wasn't pressed, and Peter reached into his briefcase, pulling out a manila folder.
"I talked to Edward this morning before we left Chicago," he began. "I asked him about what happened to him while he was in Las Vegas. And he trusted me enough to tell me most of the truth. He said Ms. Swan called him while she had you with her, and she asked him to meet her. I need you to tell me if what he said was true."
"You seem to have already made up your mind," she retorted. "Why do you need me to say anything at this point?"
Peter smiled only slightly. "Because I don't think you want Edward to go to prison anymore than his father does. And that says more about you than it does him."
She hesitated, lifting her hand to her own face and rubbing her cheek. While it might've looked like she was thinking of what to say, to Carlisle, it seemed like she was listening for him. He didn't need her to protect him, no more than he'd needed Siobhan six months earlier.
Something clicked in his head, and though he wanted to hear what Lucy said, Carlisle left as quietly as he could, hurrying back to his library where he'd left the morning paper. The front page was turned away, revealing a headline at the top of the second page of the paper.
Longtime Entrepreneur Liam McDonnel hospitalized with severe food poisoning.
Food poisoning.
Siobhan.
You didn't fail. I just never listened to you. I'm listening now.
Edward's words hit Carlisle so hard this time he had to sit down. It all became so clear. There was really no other reason for Siobhan to be involved. If his son was listening to him now when he might not have before, it was only because he understood why Carlisle had done everything in the past — to keep him safe.
That could only mean one thing.
Edward was keeping up this . . . charade because of Liam. He was trying to protect his father, as well as Lucy. That meant everything Carlisle suspected about him being innocent in this was true.
Okay, so, I'll go ahead and say it. Bella is definitely OOC in this. There. I admit it. But does that mean I don't want you to read my story? No.
So, hopefully, I'll be back on schedule for next week. I'm working on the next chapter, and like I said, only a few more chapters to go, I think. And the balance of the chapters will start to change - if you catch my drift.
See you next time!
