Edited by Stilldreaming85 and Banshee69
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Isabella Cullen.
I felt as if I was floating although my body felt heavy at the same time. I was lying on something soft. My nose was buried in the smell of crisp, clean linen. Then it all came back to me.
My eyes snapped open. I rolled onto my back and jumped out of the bed I had been lying in.
I looked around the room frantically, realizing where I was immediately. I was in hell, in the underground, in his room.
Memories of last night came flooding back to me, or what I assumed was last night.
I had seen him, he had been there. He touched me, spoke to me, but how? He was dead, Anthony was dead. I had watched him die.
There was only a small difference separating Edward from Anthony, only one small mole and a dimple set them apart. It was Anthony that I saw, I was certain of it, the same Anthony who opened the door just now and walked into the room with a tray of food.
"Good to see my sleeping beauty is awake," he said, setting the tray down on a table.
Words failed me as I stared at him. I was walking a fine line between reality and whatever this was. Was I even awake? Was this all one big messed up dream?
"I brought you breakfast." His words interrupted my thoughts.
"Breakfast?"
"Well, it's just after eleven, but I thought breakfast would do."
Eleven in the morning? My hand flew to my mouth. By now, Edward would know that I was gone. Garrett is probably dead. I know there is no way Edward would let him live this time around, but now it was all my fault. Garrett's blood was on my hands, no different as if I would have killed him myself.
"You look a little pale there. You're not going to throw up are you?" Anthony asked, holding the bathroom door open for me.
"How are you here?" I asked, still not believing that any of this was real. Was I really seeing him or was he a ghost? "How are you alive?"
He chuckled. "It's all about who you know."
"I watched you bleed to death." I recalled that memory clearly. It was an image that would always haunt me.
"I'm sorry you had to see that."
"I felt your heart stop beating. I watched as you stopped breathing. I saw your eyes roll into the back of your head."
"I told you, it's all about who you know," he said.
I watched every step he took towards me. I expected him to disappear into thin air with each step that lead him closer to me.
He raised his hand up, my natural instinct caused me flinch away from him. He could not hide the hurt on his face, but what was he expecting? This was the man who had hurt me both emotionally and physically.
He brushed a stray piece of hair off of my face. He took one of my hands in his, while with his free one, began unbuttoning his shirt.
"What are you doing?" I could feel the panic building up in me.
He took my hand and placed it on this bare chest atop his heart.
"Do you feel that?" he asked.
I did, I felt it, the thump, thump, thump of his heart beating against my palm. Anthony was here standing before me, alive.
"Feel my heart beating, little lamb, feel that I'm alive. I'm not a ghost. I'm right here, right now in this room with you, alive," he said. His voice was tender and gentle with each word he spoke, that wasn't like the Anthony I knew at all.
"You're alive," I whispered.
"Now that we've cleared that up, eat," he said, letting go of my hand.
"I'm not…"
"Eat," he said in that menacing tone of his that I remembered all too well. The tone that sent chills up my spine. That was the Anthony I remembered.
Without having any other choice, I sat down and ate the food he had brought for me. I guess I was hungrier that I thought, because I had finished all the food in no time.
"Is my brother not feeding you?" He asked, astounded no doubt at how quickly I had devoured everything.
"I skipped lunch and dinner yesterday," I admitted.
"Why the hell would you do that?"
"I didn't want to be in the same room as your family," I said, regretting the words instantly, forgetting momentarily that this was Anthony I was speaking to and not Edward.
I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat. I refused to look up at him. How could I have been so stupid to say that to him of all people.
I was shocked, he took me by surprise when he burst out laughing. It wasn't a soft laughter or the kind to lure me into a false sense of security. No, it was a full on laugh, the kind where he had to hold onto his belly to stop himself from rolling over onto the floor.
"Are you alright?" I found myself asking. His cheeks were bright red and his eyes watery. If he didn't stop, I was sure he would soon pass out.
"Oh, Isabella," he said, wiping away at his damp eyes. His laughter now dead. "If only I would have known back then…" he traileld off as he stared at me. He made me feel nervous, uncomfortable when he stared at me like that. "I would have stopped my brother from marrying you. I should have kept you all for myself."
I let out a nervous chuckle. How was I supposed to respond to that?
"You know I'll admit, I missed you. I had forgotten how entertaining that smart little mouth of yours was."
What a pity the feeling was not mutual, or was it? I don't know, I can't be sure. There was a part of me, maybe it was the sick and twisted part, that is happy to see him. It was as if a sense of relief flooded me knowing he was alive, he was okay. There had to be something wrong with me, that was the only rational explanation I could come up with for this feeling.
"Why did you bring me down here?" I asked.
"Wouldn't you rather be here with me than stuck on the estate with my family that you hate very much?"
"I never said I hated them," I defended.
"Not out loud, but admit it, you do," he chuckled. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me."
"Do they know you're alive?" I could not imagine he could have kept himself hidden from them down here. Was he not concerned about the others that saw him here also if he was meant to be dead?
"They know, except for my mother and sister."
"Why would you do that? How could you not tell them!?" I yelled out. "Your mother, do you know, do you have any idea what you put her through? The pain she was in, is still in? No one can so much as even mention your name to her because it will set her off."
My yelling at Anthony hadn't been the smartest idea. He put his palms on the table harshly, he slowly moved his chair back as he stood up and leaned over the table towards me.
I jumped out of my seat and moved across the room as fast as I could. I had forgotten how quickly his mood could change. Anthony had always been hot one second and cold the next.
"Seems you haven't learned much these past few years," he said, stalking over to me. I was trapped against the wall. I had nowhere to run, not without him being able to catch me faster than I could run.
"I want to go. I want you to take me back to Edward, right now," I said. Although, I couldn't even deny how pathetic my voice had sounded, like a scared little lamb.
"You don't get to make any demands," he said.
"Edward is going to find me and he'll find you here as well," I tried to threaten him. Edward was the Don after all, I knew that meant he was the head of the family, therefore, Anthony would have to listen to him or else. Although, Anthony had never been good with taking orders, not from his father and definitely not from his brother, what made me think things had changed?
"Funny thing that," he said, placing both his hands on the wall next to my head. "your husband knows you are here with me. However, I don't see him barging in here ready to save you again, do you?"
He was taunting me, I knew it. I was the prey and he was the predator, that is how it had always been. His nose skimmed along the side of my face, down my neck and back up again.
"I've missed you. Haven't you missed me?"
"Let me go please," I said, hearing a noise behind me, but he had me trapped I could not see anything past him. "You can't keep me here against my will."
"I can do whatever I want, little lamb."
"So nice of you to join us," Anthony said, with a smirk.
Edward stood behind him, the gun in his hand now pressed up against the back of his brothers head.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't kill you right here, right now?" Edward said.
Anthony let go of me. I ducked under his arm and moved away from the both of them.
"I found your wife." He shrugged. "You seem to be having trouble keeping track of her brother."
"I told you to stay here!" Edward yelled at his brother.
"And I didn't listen."
"Get out of my sight, Anthony. Get out before I do something I'll regret."
It was just like Anthony to never listen. He went and sat back down at the table we had been at minutes prior, with his arms folded across his chest, he leaned back in his chair watching his brother and I with amusement.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?" Edward asked.
"I'm sorry I scratched your car," I said.
"My car? You think this is about a fucking car!?" He yelled as he grabbed me by the shoulder, shaking me. "Garrett's in a fucking coma because of you, because of the stunt you pulled, because you can't seem to understand."
"What did you do to him?" I demanded.
"What I needed to do a long time ago. If he dies, his blood is on your hands."
"I can't believe you!" I yelled, shoving him away, as Anthony watched on with that sick smirk on his face.
"Me? You can't believe me? I've been trying to keep you safe and you are making it very difficult."
"You haven't done anything for me. You took me away from my life and made me your prisoner again."
"Stop with this bullshit already, Isabella. You have no idea the hell you have put me through these past few hours, the hell you put all of us through."
"Excuse me if I don't give a fuck," I spat.
"Trouble in paradise, brother?" Anthony laughed.
At that moment, Edward snapped. He raised his gun firing one bullet hitting Anthony in his shoulder.
"Motherfucker," he yelled. He fell off his chair holding onto his shoulder as the blood seeped down his arm.
"You know what, I'm done," Edward said. "I can't deal with this, with you anymore. This was a mistake, a big fucking mistake."
He grabbed a hold of my arm, dragging me alongside him. He dragged me down the hallway from Anthony's room and out into the bar area. The men and women in the room all fell silent as Edward dragged me through the tables and down another hall. He opened a door to a set of stairs that lead out into an empty alleyway.
"Where are we going?" I asked, as he continued to drag me out towards the main road. It was raining, our clothes were soaked through already, but he didn't seem phased.
Edward dragged me out into the middle of the road as cars honked their horns and swerved to avoid us. He still held onto his gun and I thought he was going to kill me right here in the middle of this busy road, but he didn't. He let go of my arm and took a step back.
"I've tired," he said. "I've tried everything I could to make you see my side, to make you see reason, but you are so caught up in your hatred that you can't see past that. Everything that I've done, has been to protect my family, to protect you."
He tucked his gun in the back of his pants and ran his hands through his soaked hair.
"You want to live in your bubble, go right ahead. There is a target on your head because of me, but all you want to is to go running around, playing games with your little friend, and run away from me. Go, I'm through," he said.
Just like that, he turned and left. He left me out here in the middle of the road in the pouring rain. He turned his back on me. By the time I snapped out of my own bubble, he was nowhere to be seen.
I tried to remember which way we had come, but the rain was so heavy it was nearly impossible.
He was right, he was right about everything. I was holding on to hate, I hated him and I didn't even know why anymore. He had tried to help me, but I never saw it that way because I had been so blind.
It was too late now, I had woken up too late and now I was nothing but a stupid fool on her knees crying in the streets.