Chapter Two - Unlucky Girl

The drugs did not last the whole journey.

The more miles I put between me and that bar the more I managed to relax, convince myself that I was fine and focus on the road ahead, rather than the mess I'd left behind.

And then a moan came from the back seat.

Shit.

I panicked, having no clue what to do, but knowing I had to do something. I searched frantically for anything I could use to knock her out again, but there was nothing. This wasn't even my car. Emmett had loaned it to me to help me get around and after shamefully admitting there was no way I could pay for it along with every other bill, he gave me money for gas as well. Great guy, he was, but right now I was cursing his clear lack of foresight.

"Where am I?"

Shit!

Knocking down the driver mirror, I watched with rapt attention as she hoisted her small body away from the rattling window. She was clearly disoriented, drooping eyes squinting tired and confused. I wanted to beg her to go back to sleep. But as the tiny car bumped and spluttered along, the chuck-chuck of the worn tires on the empty backroad, the groaning of the engine crying out for sweet relief, I knew that was no longer an option.

Fuck!

"What's... what's going on?" Her voice was weak, fragile, like a baby bird. She seemed such a delicate little thing. How did she get herself mixed up in all this?

Then she caught me staring and bolted upright.

"It's you! Where are we? Are we close to the airport?"

Naive little girl. We're nowhere near the airport now.

"You're... you're the guy from the bar, right? I didn't mean to fall asleep in your car. I'm sorry. Can you tell me how far away we are, I really don't want to miss my flight," She begged, bordering on desperation. I searched for something to say, anything to put her at ease long enough to make a plan, but as typical of my awkward self, all I managed to splutter was, "You don't have to worry about that now."

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say.

"Pl-please s-s-sir, I r-r-really c-can't miss my f-flight. Please tell me where we are!"

My eyes shut tight. Sweaty fingers squeezing the frayed rubber of the steering wheel so hard I wouldn't be surprised if I left a dent. God, she was so scared. What had that man done to her?

What are you doing to her?

I opened my mouth - to say what I had no clue - when a blaring honk turned me back to the road with a shrill cry of terror. Large beaming headlights came barreling straight towards me, and before I could even think, I reacted, slamming down on the accelerator and yanking the wheel hard, sending the car careening violently into the bush, landing in a shallow ditch and missing the truck by what felt like inches.

Fuck!

The fading profanities of the other driver were all I could hear above the vicious pounding of my own heart. Fuck. I almost-

I barely had time to gasp in relief when the back door opened and the girl launched out.

"Stop!" I screamed, stumbling out and racing after her. I couldn't let her get away. I couldn't let her be seen! I'd been taking backroads and long detours for exactly that reason. No cars, no witnesses. But a young girl running for her life while screaming bloody murder was a difficult thing to miss.

She was fast, but I was faster, She shrieked as my arms caught her waist, lifting her off the ground as she flailed and struggled. She was stronger than she looked, and was fighting as though her life depended on it. But I couldn't let her go. My life depended on her.

"No! No! Let me go! Let me go!" Her terror echoed through the empty highway like the demonic cry of a possessed creature. I snapped.

"Stop it! You're not getting away from me! Just calm down and get back in the car!"

"No! Let me go! Please! Don't take me back there! Please!"

"I don't have a choice! Now stop struggling!" I roared, more out of frustration than any hope she'd pipe down. My knees were getting bruised with her constant kicks, and her arms were flailing all over the place, slapping and hitting whatever she could reach. We were at an impasse. I didn't want to hurt her, but thought I might have to if it meant getting her home in one piece. I was so close to simply going for my gun and knocking her out forcefully when my heart dropped right into my shoes.

Headlights. Headlights coming right at us. Too bright for me to see who was inside but bright enough for them to see what was happening out here. A man wrestling a struggling, pleading woman in an isolated area? Didn't leave much to the imagination. My blood curdled; jail bars and life sentences and my mother's wailing cry flashed through my mind as the young girl screamed.

My hand shot straight to my pocket, only to realise the gun wasn't there. I searched frantically, one arm still around the girl who'd now turned to biting in her effort to escape. I couldn't find it. It must have fallen out during the scuffle! I couldn't see it. It was too dark. I had nothing! Nothing to defend myself with. I was done for.

And then, as if heaven itself had heard my prayers, from the blinding beams of the towering SUV stepped my own personal guardian angel.

Emmett.

"Edward?" Was all he said.

I could have wept in relief.

He stared, dumbfounded. Gaping, half his massive body hanging loosely out of his open car door as though not quite comprehending just what he was seeing. The blinding headlights immediately shut off, and a man I didn't recognise leaned out the other side. He, too, completely in awe.

Fortunately, his apparent haze didn't last long. Leaning back inside his vehicle, he emerged a moment later, this time with something in his hand. I couldn't see what it was, far too focused on the fact that he was here. And looking as though he'd had just as rough a night. His gym clothes were rumpled, and heavy with sweat. His normally clean-shaven, acne-scarred face looked like he hadn't slept in days. His pitch-black hair was messy and all over the place. But none of that mattered as he approached me with a smile.

"I'm impressed. Out of all the guys scouring the city, I honestly can't believe it was you that found her. I knew I made the right choice bringing you on." And wasn't it just pathetic how much I preened at such backhanded praise.

My pride didn't last long.

"No, please! Please don't take me back, you don't know what he'll do to me! Please just let me go!"

So she knew who we were working for. Well, it figured. She had to know a man as powerful as him was after her, especially if she planned to hop on a plane to escape the city.

"You shouldn't have run, Bella. He's been going crazy searching for you. Suffice to say, you can kiss whatever freedoms he's given you goodbye. No way in hell he'll let this happen again."

The girl started crying. Fat, gut-wrenching tears cascaded down her cheeks as she sobbed heavily and looked up at him pleadingly. It would do her no good. I knew Emmett. And there was no one more loyal to the boss. He'd do anything to please him. Even this.

It was at that moment he raised his hand and I saw exactly what he was holding. It was an injection needle.

"No! Please, Emmett, don't do this! I just want to go home! Please don't take me back to him! Please!"

But Emmett wasn't listening.

Flicking his finger against the syringe, he gripped her hair tightly and jerked her head to the side, effortlessly jabbing the sharp needle right into her neck.

There were a few more moments of weakened struggling, and then she was still.

"Get her in the car, Edward. We're taking her back to the boss."

AAA

After carrying the unconscious girl to the SUV, Emmett promptly tied her hands and legs and laid her gently on the back seat, He then ordered the other guy to stay with my car and wait for help, before insisting I join him on the drive back to base. I didn't protest, not exactly wanting to wait around all night for a tow truck, and already feeling myself flagging from all the draining adrenaline.

It was a quiet drive for the most part. He called the boss at some point, telling him he had the girl, and that it was I who deserved the reward. I was grateful to him for that. And for showing up. And for simply being there for me.

I must have crashed at some point, because when I next opened my eyes, we were within city limits, and despite the late hour, many people were milling around. I thanked God, for the millionth time that night, that the car had tinted windows. I found myself staring at the centre console, where the fancy little screen displayed footage of the cameras pointing toward the back seat.

She looked... peaceful. Only the tearstains on her cheeks gave any indication of what had happened tonight. What a fucking night...

"Don't." Emmett scolded suddenly. I jumped, almost forgetting he was there since he'd been so quiet. Dragging myself up, I rubbed my face roughly and looked at him dumbly.

"Don't, what?"

"Don't start catching feelings. With any other bitch, feel free, but not her. The boss is pleased with you, Edward. This is your chance to get out of low-level grunt work and actually make something of yourself. But if he catches you looking at her like that, not even I will be able to protect you."

I wanted to snap that I didn't need his protection, but after everything he'd done for me, I'd never be so disrespectful. He was the reason my family wasn't on the streets already. He'd given me this opportunity, given me money to cover rent, bought me food, got me a car. And now he was letting me keep the glory of returning the girl even though without him, I may not have been able to. I supposed I should've been grateful he didn't need the money, being second in command, he made enough that $100,000 was mere chump change. It would, in comparison, completely change my life.

I fiddled with my shirt nervously, wondering again why he treated me so well. He'd only known me a few months, but he acted like a protective older brother. And I wasn't stupid. I knew he had motives, and I most likely wasn't the only guy he'd done this for. But I couldn't help but care for him almost as much as I did Seth.

I just couldn't curb my curiosity.

"Emmett, why does the boss want her so badly?"

He didn't look at me, icy-blue eyes locked on a brightly flickering traffic light.

"That's not the kind of question you should be asking, Edward. Ever. Don't think the boss will forgive insolence just because you found her. It will be better for you if you just forget this night ever happened."

And just like that, everything that had happened tonight thundered through my mind. From the landlord's harsh demands to the cheap tasting beer, to the large truck barrelling towards me with no purpose or mercy. Everything seemed to collapse whatever wall I'd managed to construct and a tiny sob ripped from my throat.

"I killed someone tonight."

The sound of leather crunching under his strong fists was the only indication he even cared.

"Where?"

I was taken aback by his indifference. Didn't he care he was sitting beside a murderer? Didn't he understand I had taken another's life? The life of a man who most definitely did not deserve to die?

I answered robotically. "A little dive bar off the highway M7, near the airport."

He gave a sharp nod. "I'll send a team out there tonight. If there's already police, I'll make sure to send in one of our detectives and have them erase any CCTV footage and remove everything with your fingerprints. No one will know you were ever there."

Except me.

And suddenly and without warning I abruptly burst into tears.

Low, mournful sobs ripped through my lungs as I hid my face in my hands and wept heavily. Emmett, out of kindness or pity, completely ignored me. I wailed for my lost innocence and stupidity. If I had only been stronger, smarter, better, that bartender would still have his life, I never would have been holding a gun in the first place, I wouldn't even be sitting here, in this car with the man who had to save me and my family because I couldn't save them myself. I bet anyone else who went through what I had could have handled it all without making such a colossal mess. But not me. Stupid, naive, helpless Edward Cullen couldn't do anything right. I was never good enough.

I didn't know how long I stewed, wallowing in my own misery. I wanted to apologise for my outburst, but the words wouldn't come. Seeking some kind of distraction, anything but the vacant stare of the gallant man with a bleeding wound in the centre of his head, I asked the first thing that came to mind.

"How did you find me?"

Emmett seemed just as eager to reply.

"We were already on our way to the airport when I pinged your car close by. Wanted to see what you were doing all the way out there." He looked at me curiously. "How the fuck did you find her?"

"It... it was a coincidence. Wait..." I sat straight up, glaring out of shock more than anything else, "are you saying you put a tracker in my car?"

"We have trackers on all our vehicles, not just 'your' car." He snapped back snidely. I flushed, feeling like a chastised child. I was just about to apologise when he launched into an unexpected tirade.

"I don't normally go around recruiting guys into our organisation, Edward. That's not my job. Normally, if someone wants to join up, they come to us, and they're put through months of brutal training to see if they can handle it. The only reason you are here, is because I put my neck out on the line for you. But that doesn't mean you get any kind of special treatment. You get treated just like every other grunt until you prove your loyalty. You did that tonight. You found her," He tilted his head towards the backseat, "but that doesn't mean you get to just collect that reward and walk away. Don't think you can get jumped out as easily as you got jumped in. Because I swear, Edward, if you ever even think about screwing me over, I will come after you, family or none."

"Emmett-" I interrupted. He shot me a glare, but stayed silent. I stared, wide-eyed.

"Where is this coming from? I'm not going to screw you over! I don't even know why you would think that. I'm so grateful for everything you've done for me. My family and I... we'd be homeless if not for you. You... you have my loyalty. And... and so does the boss. I'm in this until I take my last breath." I swore. I knew I meant it too. This was a lifetime kind of gig, and whether I liked it or not, I knew from here, there was no turning back.

"Good. Remember that oath, Edward. Because there's nowhere on this earth you can run where we won't be able to find you."

The rest of the drive was silent. And the closer we got to the estate, the more nervous I became. I was finally going to meet him; the man behind the myth. The legend behind the stories. And oh boy, had I heard a lot of stories.

How many men he'd killed, how much money he had, how terrifying his infamous torture techniques were. Taking one last look at the girl, I shivered. What had he done to her? Who was she to him? What kind of life had I dragged her back into?

Too late to start asking questions now. You made your choice.

When we finally arrived, I was once again blown away by just how stunning it truly was. Driving past tennis courts, gardens and multiple heavily guarded gates I couldn't help but gawk like an unseasoned tourist. It was a poor man's paradise. Locked behind high standing defences that took no prisoners, sequestered inside a forest of trees that expanded for miles and isolated the property far from the rest of the city, sat Black Manor.

It was glorious. Towering walls of pristine white, dozens of monumental black marble columns, balconies and perfectly crafted fixtures as high as you could crane your neck. It was beautiful, gorgeous, breathtaking. And the interior was just as grand. As Emmett carried the sleeping girl past the threshold of gold, through the entranceway fit for a palace, and into a ridiculously large sitting room that would have looked right at home on the cover of an architecture magazine, something inside me physically recoiled. Shouting you do not belong here! And it was true. I had no doubt that a single painting could pay my rent for several years. Someone like me, the only way I'd ever belong is if I were cleaning the toilets. And even that I would consider a compliment.

We'd barely stood a single minute before two tall double doors practically burst off their hinges and a man stepped through.

"Boss." Was Emmett's only greeting.

This was the boss?

He was... not what I pictured.

Perhaps it was all the old gangster movies I watched with my pops when I was young, but when I thought of the king of a massive crime empire, I'd always imagined an older, balding man with a long moustache, sagging cheeks and an expensive cigar hanging loosely from smoke-stained teeth.

The man before us was... not like that.

He didn't look a day over thirty. He was muscular, not as large as Emmett but big enough to immediately intimidate scrawny little me. He was good looking. With sharp, chiselled features, a strong chin, square jaw, dark - almost black - eyes that popped so naturally from his tan russet skin, raven-black hair neatly styled to frame his face, and all decked out in a crisp, clean expensive suit. He was refined. Polished. Powerful.

No. Not what I expected at all.

This was who she was running from?

And as if controlled by the pattern of my thoughts, this sophisticated, dominant, terrifying man turned his cold eyes onto her.

And visibly melted. In an instant, all his urgency and clear rage seemed to fall away. He looked relieved as he slowly, carefully extracted the limp girl from Emmett's arms, pulling her to his chest with a tenderness that contradicted everything I'd ever learned about him.

"Thank you, Emmett." He said, eyes never wavering from the dark-haired beauty. "You never fail to serve me well. You will be greatly rewarded for this."

"Thanks, boss, but it's really Edward here who should get the credit. He's the one who found her."

I didn't know if I loved Emmett or hated him in that moment. As grateful as I was for him sticking up for me, the second I was pinned by those dark, piercing eyes I felt the urge to cower into the floor.

Luckily for me, I was barely worth his attention, and after a moment of observing me as though I were unsatisfying merchandise, he then turned back to Emmett.

"He's one of yours, is he not?"

"Yes, sir," Emmett replied without skipping a beat. How did he stand that level of intensity?

"Pay him his money and call off the search. Tell them my Isabella's home." He practically purred. Cradling the sleeping woman as though she were a baby, he turned on his heel and walked away as suddenly as he'd arrived.

"Well... that was... unexpected." I managed to stammer. Emmett merely shrugged.

"Come, I'll take you home. The money will be deposited into your account tonight, and your car should be dropped off by now too. You might want to take a few days off to clear up any issues you've been having. I'll call you when I need you next."

If I was lucky, I thought, I'd never have to deal directly with that man, or that girl, ever again.