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.
Edward Cullen.
What had she been thinking? How could she have been so stupid as to do something as reckless as that?
She hadn't been thinking that had been the problem. My brother had taken too much joy in it all. He had been standing right next to her, how stupid could he have been to let her do that, to let her take his gun and take someone's life with it? It was of no importance if that person deserved to live or die. It wasn't her, she wasn't the type to do something like this. She wouldn't be prepared for the consequences.
I didn't know what to do with her. Once I had her alone in her room, my mind went blank.
There was a part of me, a very strong part of me that wanted to hurt her. It would be easy, it would be so easy to give into that part of myself, to put my hands on her. However, there was a stronger part of me that wanted to take her into my arms, hold her and comfort her. That part of me won, that part of me will always win where she's concerned. Always.
I took her into the bathroom. I filled the tub with water while she silently stared at me as I moved about.
I removed my own clothes first, standing before her naked. I began to remove her clothes. I undid her shirt slowly, one painful button at a time. I unzipped her pants and pulled them down her legs as she stepped out of them and I kicked them off to one side. The entire time she made no sound, no effort to stop me, not even as I removed her bra and panties.
My eyes roamed over her, every inch of her body as I helped her into the tub. I climbed in after her settling her down in-between my legs as she rested her head against my shoulder.
Her action, although welcoming, was surprising. Then again, I don't really know what I had been expecting from her either. Had she gone into shock yet? Was this her seeking comfort for that?
I hadn't done what I had expected myself to do either. What I wanted was to yell at her, to scream until my voice hurt and my lungs gave out. To tell her how stupid her actions had been, to do it until she finally realized it herself. However, I think both of us needed this more. We needed the comfort, the closeness that we brought to each other at this moment.
I knew Garrett would oversee the cleanup. I knew my brother would be on it as well, he'd have called for a cleanup crew. I would cover for her because she was mine, just as I was her's. I only needed to make her understand that.
We sat in the tub together, with my arms around her until the water became cold. I wasn't ready for this to end, not just yet.
"What you did was stupid," I said, breaking the silence.
"I don't care," she said.
"I'm not mad at you, in fact, I'm proud of you. Considering how bad your aim is, you were right on target," I chuckled.
"You're proud of me?" She turned her head to the side trying to look up at me, frowning. "You're proud I shot your mistress?"
"She was never my mistress," I defended.
"No? She was just someone you fucked."
I don't know where this side of her was coming from. Jealousy? It didn't suit her. I didn't want her to ever feel jealous, but I'll be damned if I didn't enjoy it. It was arousing.
She turned her head away from me, looking straight ahead, so I couldn't see the expression on her face. I had no clue what she was thinking.
"At the time, I thought you were gone for good. I didn't know if you were alive or if I would ever have the chance to see you again. It's not an excuse, it's...she was very persistent, very annoying and I was angry and alone," I said, guarding her reactions, but as usual she gave nothing away. "She always had it stuck in her head that she and I were going to be together, that's what her father had promised her. He always thought that my wife was a made-up tale by my father and myself."
"What about that day in the office back in Sicily? I saw her on top of you, naked," she said, as her fingernails dug into my wrists.
"If you would have stayed a second longer, you would have seen me push her away. We could have avoided all of...that," I said.
"Why didn't you get rid of her then? Why parade her around in my face? Were you trying to make me jealous?"
"No, although I do like this feisty side of you." I smirked, placing a kiss on her wet shoulder. "I never want you to feel jealous, especially because of another woman. I kept her around because I believed she had some information that I had wanted, but as it turned out, her father had let her fend for herself."
"That's horrible," she said.
"That's just how life is."
"I'm cold."
I climbed out of the tub, wrapping a towel around my waist before helping her out of the tub and draping a towel over her shoulders.
There was a silent moment we shared, staring at each other. Neither one of us was willing to break the moment, neither one wanting to look away. I wanted to lean in and kiss her, no, I wanted to do more to her, so much more. However, a part of me knew she would refuse me and that part of me could not handle her rejection. Instead, I let her walk off and dress herself as I did the same.
I waited in bed for her to come out of the closet. When she finally emerged, she stood at the foot of the bed, staring at me once more.
"What are you doing in here?" She asked.
"Do you not want me here?" I asked, feeling the rejection, but not letting it known it affected me.
I didn't want to leave, I wanted to stay with her, hold her, comfort her. I knew all too well what the first kill felt like. I knew the nightmares it brought, no one was immune. I was fourteen when I took my first life. However, I was trained for it, I knew what to do, what to expect. My kill, unlike hers, hadn't been spontaneous, it was planned. Isabella wasn't prepared for any of this, she was not bred into this life.
I was expecting her to lose it. I was expecting her to have been rocking herself in the corner in shock or to have another panic attack. She did none of those. She seemed very collected, very put together, as if nothing happened at all.
"I want to be by myself," she said.
And there it was, rejection in its finest, most sweetest form.
"Alright," I said, getting off of the bed. "I'm only across the hall if you need me, dolcezza, no matter what," I told her as I leaned in a put a kiss to her forehead.
With that, I left her. I went into my own room and pulled out the bottle of sleeping pills from my nightstand, popping one into my mouth.
I was tired, but with everything that's been going on, sleep was the last thing I wanted, but it was one thing I needed. One pill wouldn't do much for me, maybe I would get four hours of sleep from it at best.
~MINY~
"Get him away from me!" I heard Isabella shout out.
My eyes snapped open as my head shot up from my pillow. Rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I sprinted across the hall from my room into my wife's room where all the commotion was coming from, stumbling as I did in my half sleep state.
"Look what you've done, you've awoken the beast," my brother said.
It took me a moment to adjust to the light in the room. The first thing that got my attention, they were all dressed as if they had all been out somewhere, Isabella included. The second, was my wife hiding behind Garrett's back, trying to shield herself from my brother.
"What the fuck did you do?" I asked, charging at him.
"Easy there," he said, holding out his hands. "I didn't do anything."
I grabbed him by the base of his throat, squeezing just enough to cut off his air.
"What. Did. You. Do?" I demanded.
"Edward," Isabella said, running up to us, trying to separate me from my brother.
"Tell me what he did to you. Did he hurt you!?" I yelled out.
"No, he didn't hurt me, Edward I swear. I was hungry, he took me to get something," she said, pleading with me with her eyes. I never thought I would see the day that she defended Anthony.
I let go of my brother, giving him a shove and watching him as he fell flat on his back.
"Why were you shouting, then?"
"Because he's an ass," she said. "Make him leave."
"I'm hurt, little lamb, and here I thought you loved me," my brother said, feigning hurt.
"Enough, get out," I said.
"Before you get your panties all bunched up," my brother said, "ask her why she wants me to leave. Ask your wife what happened, what she's keeping from you."
"I am not keeping anything from anyone," Isabella said, grinding her teeth together.
It was clear that whatever had happened between my brother and my wife, I wasn't going to get it out of them. Anthony enjoyed speaking in riddles and Isabella was too stubborn to say it.
"Garrett."
"Michael," Garrett said.
At the mention of that name, my blood boiled. I was over this, over this...this man that had come out of nowhere and was now everywhere my wife was.
Could she not see it? Did she not find it odd? Or did she think it all one big coincidence? Even she could not be that stupid.
We didn't know who he really was, or what it was that he wanted. The man was literally reborn, any trace of a previous life nonexistent. We could not even identify where he was staying in the city.
However, she knew, I was certain of that because she was never a convincing enough of a liar. There was only so much longer I could play this patient husband card with her. She needed to tell me what she knew, because as much as it would pain me, I would take her down to the basements to scare some sense into her.
"I got this," I said. "Both of you, get out of here."
"Remember what I said," my brother says to Isabella.
Anthony and Garrett left us alone. I watched as my wife slipped off her shoes and climbed into bed.
"Don't even think about it," I said. She couldn't hide from this. "I want answers."
"I'm tired," she mumbled into her pillow.
"So am I. I'm tired of all of this. Why are you protecting him?"
"I am not protecting anyone," she defended, now sitting up. I had her full attention.
"No? Then tell me where Michael is," I demanded.
"I...I don't...know."
"Tell me the truth!" I yelled.
"I don't know where he is, Edward, I don't know a damn thing," she said.
I tried but failed to understand her. What motive, what reason could she have to protect this stranger? My mind was running away with me. All sorts of scenarios played in my head, none of which I favored. For all I knew, Michael could be undercover. If that was the case, what the fuck had she told him?
Patient wasn't a good approach with her. Caring wasn't a good approach. I was running out of options. Did she only respond to violence? Was that the only way I could get her to cooperate?
"Fine," I said. "What does he want?"
"Nothing. He doesn't want anything," she said.
"Then what was he doing with you? What did he tell you? What did he want?"
One more try, I could give her one more try before I let what little control I had left, slip.
"Did it ever occur to you that he just wanted to be my friend?"
"No, because I don't believe for one second he wants to be just your friend," I said.
She looked down at her fingers as she started to fiddle with them. Her chest heaved up and down. She was crying, I'd made her cry. I watched as tears streamed down her face and onto the comforter.
I didn't like that. I didn't like it when she cried. I didn't like that I'd been the one to make her cry, even though I needed answers, even though I hated what she was doing, I'd been the one to hurt her now.
I crawled into bed beside her, pulling her down beside me, I maneuvered our bodies so that we were facing each other. I wiped some of her tears away, as she did as well.
"Do you want to truth?" she asked.
I nodded.
"I like Michael," she admitted and that stabbed at my heart. "I like him because he looked at me as if I was just another person. He didn't treat me different like everyone else did. Your dad said I could start over in Ragusa, but everyone knew who I was."
"You are a normal person, dolcezza," I said, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.
"No, Edward, I'm not. I was, but I'll never be normal again. I'll never have a normal life. All those people there, they didn't even know how to act around me. They were so afraid to approach me, as if I'd give them some sort of disease if I breathed in their direction. Then, I bumped into Michael, who knew nothing about me, nothing. He doesn't know Isabella, he doesn't know who you are, nothing, Edward, nothing. You have no idea what a breath of fresh air it was to have someone look at me the way he looked at me."
I swallowed the lump in my throat at her words. "How did he look at you?" I asked.
"Like I belonged. He treated me nicely, I didn't have to guess his mood. He looked at me as if I mattered," she cried.
"Why didn't you ever tell me how you felt?" I asked.
"Would you have cared?"
"I've always cared, dolcezza, always, you just never saw it. I do love you and I hope that one day you'll believe me," I said.
There was something in her, a change. I could see it in her eyes and on her face as she searched mine. What she was looking for, I don't know, but I hoped she found it. I'd always been sincere about my feelings. I do love her, in my own way.
"It's hard for me to trust you," she admitted. "But I want to. There are times where I feel like I can, but others, not so much. You confuse me, Edward. I want to hate you and I do, but at the same time I don't."
"That's…" I chuckled. "That's exactly how I feel."
I offered her a soft smile. I had an urge to kiss her to draw her close to me. I took the chance and hoped she wouldn't reject me.
I slowly brought my mouth to hers, placing a small, soft kiss on her lips. She put her hand on the back of my head and pulled herself closer to me, deepening our kiss, her tongue licking along my bottom lip.
I flipped us over, she was on the bed under me. Her hands went to my shirt, ready to pull it off, but I put my hands over hers, stopping her.
"What are you doing?" I asked. I wanted this, don't get me wrong, but I didn't want her to do something she was not prepared to do because she was caught in the heat of the moment. I wanted her trust.
"Isn't that how it works," she lightly joked. "Aren't we supposed to take our clothes off?"
"Are you sure?"
"Why are you asking so many questions?" She tried to tug at my shirt again.
"Because I don't want you to regret this."
"I won't, I promise...if you don't want me in that way…"
I didn't give her a chance to finish her words. I pulled my shirt off and captured her mouth once more. I didn't know what the day would bring, but this was a good way to start it. For now, questions and answers could wait. For now she had my undivided attention. She was my sole focus, my purpose, my love.