Chapter Four - First Day

"C'mon Edward, get up! If he was a real enemy, you'd have been dead five minutes ago!"

My whole body ached from head to toe. The man Emmett had training me had been kicking my ass for nearly a month now. Don't get me wrong, he was a good teacher; building up my weak points and picking apart my impulses, but he was a professional. Before I joined this organisation, I'd never even thrown a punch, and clearly, clearly, it showed.

For the past couple of weeks, despite the presiding guilt, my conscience cacophonous screaming and many, many nights lost to bad dreams, so many pieces of my life had slotted into place. I moved my mum and brother out of that run-down apartment into the brand new state-of-the-art house Mr Black had so generously provided. All on one level, it came with a fully equipped modern kitchen, a family room decked with the comfiest couches and any gaming system Seth could ever want. A dining room for entertaining, an office for study, a utility room, multiple bathrooms, huge backyard; Seth and I even had our own bedrooms.

My mother had cried when I pushed her wheelchair through the threshold and I could tell with no words needed that the massive burden bearing down on both our shoulders had finally lifted.

Before my father died, Mum was already sick. The cancer was strong and it was spreading, and though she was fighting it with everything she had, she was already out of work, and practically bedridden. Once we lost my father, everything was left on me. I had to drop out of college, say goodbye to my dream of being a doctor like him and just... learn to scrape by.

Not surprisingly, despite all my efforts, I wasn't good enough. Our house was foreclosed on when we couldn't make the mortgage payments, and we were forced into a dingy one-bedroom flat in one of the worst parts of the city to maintain all other expenses. Mother, of course, needed her own room, so Seth and I had shared the cramped living/kitchen/entrance area together for nearly a year. It was rough, on all of us, and now...

She was proud of me, they both were. So proud and so relieved. With newfound determination, Mum had dragged us both to an old friends' house. The man had graciously been storing all our furniture in his cluttered garage, whatever was left of it, anyway, after so many losses. It was a pitiful sight, an entire lifetime crammed into a few small cardboard boxes. But when she cut those boxes open...

Photographs. Dozens of them. Depictions of a time when we were just another healthy, happy family. They had all been lovingly wrapped and packed away, ready for the day they could once again hang proudly on our walls.

Now Mum had what she always wanted, Seth had his own private space, one he wasn't ashamed to bring his friends home to, and I... I had hope. For the first time in a long time, I could see a better future. Even if the circumstances were far from ideal... our future was what I would always fight for.

And so I'd been training. For a few hours every day, I would come to the manor and work until my muscles cried. It was exhausting, and excruciating and getting harder to hide from my mother's eagle eyes, but it was also completely necessary.

I had to learn these things, I just wished learning wasn't so humiliating.

With a little push, I assumed my fighting stance once more. There was a whistle blow, a barrage of flailing limbs, a painful jab in my right leg and I was on my arse again.

"Alright, Cullen, that's enough. Up you get. You can't lie on your back all day or some of these guys might get ideas."

Case and point.

From where I lay clutching my pounding chest, I stared up at my teacher through sweat-damp bronze hair. Lean and lanky, the man looked nothing like a trained fighter. The first time I saw him I believed he belonged in a cubical more than any boxing ring. With honey-blond curls atop his pale forehead, high defined cheekbones and a soft jaw, thin pink lips and a skinny nose sat squarely over a narrow, pointed chin. He was even wearing glasses.

No. He didn't match my preconception of a fighter at all, but that hadn't stopped him from owning me every single time.

"So this is your recruit with 'great potential' huh, Emmett?"

"Shut it, Tyler. He's only been here four months and he's already making more money than you."

A round of rapturous laughter erupted through the gym, and I was just relieved it wasn't directed at me for once. Tyler, though, seemed to take it in good spirits and grinned like a shark before swaggering away. I practically staggered out of the ring, more than thankful my time was up, collapsing on a rubber mat right beside Emmett, and smiling gratefully at the towel and water that was unceremoniously thrust in my hands. Gods, everything hurt.

"It'll get easier. You just have to keep going at it. Your body will adapt eventually."

I groaned.

"I don't think my body was made for this."

"You have to learn some basic skills. You don't have to be the best fighter in the world, but if you get disarmed or taken off guard you have to be able to defend yourself." Emmett parroted the same lecture he'd given since I started. I knew he was right, still remembering how I'd struggled to contain a petite, skinny girl nearly half my size, and how awful it would've been if she had managed to escape from me.

Didn't mean I had to like it.

"He's right, Edward." My teacher called over. "Even if you don't learn how to fight, defence is key to survival. Learning enough to hurt someone before running away is more effective than simply doing nothing. If someone tries to take you out, they're gonna choose the easiest way possible, it's up to you to make it difficult for them."

"Well, he's... interesting," I mused, watching the man begin another fight. He really was majestic, so fast and efficient, deceptively strong, knowing all the wrong places to apply the most pressure. Emmett had mentioned that he came from Texas, and had joined the organisation right out of the army. I would've loved to hear his story, but I doubted he'd offer it freely, and I wasn't stupid enough to ask.

"He's a lunatic is what he is. But he's right. There could always be a situation where you can't rely on a gun. Knowing how to use your body as a weapon is sometimes the greatest advantage to have. Jasper may be a nutcase but I've seen him disarm an opponent with a bottle opener and a tin of tuna. He's great backup if you're walking into the unknown. And more often than not that's how it works here."

"How did you two meet?"

"A bit like you I guess. He walked into my gym looking for a job, so I set him up in the ring to see what he could do. He beat every guy there in under eighteen seconds. It was... bizarre. He's also surprisingly good with computers. Boss mostly uses him for that, but sometimes I bring him down here to help train the new recruits. I think he prefers computers though. Fightings a bit too easy for him."

That wasn't hard to believe.

We sat in each others company for a while, me cooling down and Emmett gearing up, when his phone went off. Quick to fish it from his pocket, he glanced at the screen and visibly straightened.

"Boss." He answered professionally. I perked up immediately. Despite having accepted my new job a month ago, I'd yet to work a single day. I'd been training, sure, preparing, learning, but still waiting. Emmett told me to be patient, but I was too impatient to start earning the benefits I was already basking in.

"Sorry boss, I'm in the gym... yes, sir, he's actually here with me... you got it, boss, I'll let him know right away... sure thing, boss. Bye." He ended the call, then turned around and noticed me staring. He stood.

"C'mon, let's go upstairs." He said, not waiting to see if I'd object. Of course, I didn't.

Another quiet elevator ride had me fiddling with my sweaty vest nervously. I had a sneaking suspicion Emmett's call with the boss had been about me, and really, really hoped he wasn't leading me to meet the man again. Still remembering the embarrassment of being shoved before the sophisticated, intimidating man in my scruffy old clothes, it would be even worse now. Thankfully, he headed for the kitchen instead.

It was impressive, to be sure, more fit for a michelin star restaurant than a house. There were multiple ovens, stovetops, appliances and counter space. A large, shiny communal fridge stood proudly between tall sleek cabinets, a black marble island centre to the room sat beneath a pristine glass skylight and a ceiling-high metal door led to a private pantry I knew from experience was exquisitely stocked and completely off-limits to everyone but the boss's surly private chef.

It fitted the decor of the manor perfectly; everything was stylish, modern, expensive and dark.

The few people milling around fled at a single dismissive wave of Emmett's hand, and he gleefully charged the clear path to the fridge, pulling out a bunch of food and tossing me a Coke. I happily pierced the can and took an eager gulp, sighing in relief as the cool liquid flooded my parched throat.

"You start work tomorrow."

I nearly choked.

"What?" I croaked hoarsely, glaring at the bastard through pained, watery eyes. He didn't even look at me, far too focused on the eight slices of bread he was slathering.

"You start guarding Bella tomorrow. You'll have to be here early, before Boss leaves his room, and stand watch outside until she comes out, then you'll be-"

"Wait wait wait, hold on! When was this decided?"

"Probably, just now."

Hysteria ensued.

Yes, this was what I'd been waiting for, but to have it sprung on me so suddenly-!

Knowing I'd get nowhere by going off on him, I took a deep breath.

"So... so I'll be guarding her tomorrow? What will I actually have to do?"

Not pausing from constructing his monstrous sandwich, he popped a slice of tomato in his mouth and answered crudely,

"You just have to watch her and keep her from doing anything stupid. She won't be leaving the house any time soon, that's for damn sure, so you'll likely be spending most of your time just following her around the manor."

"Wait... that's it? That's all I'm doing?" I demanded incredulously. All those hours I'd put in. All those lectures and beat downs and embarrassing defeats. I was still sore. I couldn't stand the thought of it being all for nothing.

"Don't underestimate what that girl is capable of, Edward. Boss may have tightened the leash, but she still has free reign around this place and can still cause a fair bit of mayhem. Just keep your eyes open. Stay close, stay professional and stay detached. She won't like having you around, but you're her guard, not her friend. Make sure you both remember that."

I nodded, taking note of the rare serious edge of his tone. I supposed she had sent half the guys in the city running around like dogs after their tails. If he said she was trouble, who was I to contradict him?

"Emmett?"

"Hmm?"

"If I'm just starting today, whose been guarding her while I've been training?"

He paused, the enthusiasm for his task momentarily faltering. "No one," He muttered. "She's been in confinement."

"Confinement? Like... in prison?" What-?

"Most likely in his room. That's where she's spent most of her time, or so I've heard. Don't worry about it. Not your problem, remember?"

"But... for a whole month?" I just couldn't let it go. He huffed out a breath before turning to face me, a mayo coated knife waving loosely in his hand.

"Edward, she not only disobeyed him, she ran from him. Confinement is the most lenient punishment he's ever given anyone for committing either of those crimes. Trust me, it may sound harsh, but that girl gets away with a lot."

Momentarily abandoning his sandwich, he leaned his massive body against the countertop and sighed, "Look. I know," he sighed again, "I know it's in your nature to be protective of people, but we've had this conversation before. You have to think of Bella as only a job. Like guarding a priceless artefact. You show up, you guard, you get paid. But you don't look, you don't touch, and you don't interfere. And if... if he punishes her in front of you, you can't show any emotion. He's a master at picking out weaknesses and he will drop you if he thinks you can't handle it. It's important that you show him it's him you serve, not her. She may be your charge, but he's your boss. What he says goes."

The memory of her teary-eyed and whimpering clung to the fringes of my mind before I did as I was told and promptly shoved it down. I couldn't help her. I couldn't save her. The only thing I could do was the job I had been given. I sincerely hoped I wouldn't have to watch the girl be 'punished', but if I did... if I did, I'd handle it. I'd chosen this path for a reason and it was too late to turn back now.

As if reading my thoughts, Emmett scoffed one last massive bite in his mouth before brushing all the crumbs away from his clothes and standing.

"Right, come with me then, we best get going."

"Going where?"

"If you're going to start work tomorrow, you need to look the part. You can't be seen around the boss in your jeans and crappy band t-shirts. Let's go shopping."

AAA

My alarm went off at 5:05 AM, and after yanking myself from my nice warm bed, I made a coffee, jumped in the shower, and slowly dressed for my very first day.

Emmett, despite my many protests, had taken me to his own personal tailor. I'd insisted on not needing one, being perfectly capable of buying off a rack with my normal-sized body. But with some persuading (and a little threatening) he got me in the store where an older Italian man had been on me in seconds. A couple of hours, and many needle pricks later, the tailor had promised ten 'exquisite' suits to be ready by the end of next month. In the meantime, Em suggested I purchase some clothing from the older man's store and would hear no objection, even as I'd physically bulked at the prices.

The second part of my 'upgrade' was much more pleasurable. After even more back and forth and some manhandling I was still salty about, I finally consented to buying a new vehicle. The car dealership Emmett took me to was apparently partly owned by Mr Black, and every employee of his was entitled to a tidy discount. I'd taken full advantage of it, and I was now the proud owner of a perky little four-door Volkswagen Atlas. Clean, spacious, and not at all ostentatious; it was perfect for me.

I wished Emmett good luck rehousing the rust bucket and said a little prayer for the poor sap who got saddled with it next.

It was a smooth drive to the boss's estate, and in no time at all, I was outside his bedroom door. His own personal guard, Michael Newton, was already waiting, and after giving me a quick once over, went back to reading his newspaper. I watched him curiously. Word around the compound was he was a sniper, a firearms expert and all-around MVP in all things guns. I had also heard the guy was an asshole, and so was more than willing to keep to myself until the boss came out.

"Gentlemen." He greeted. Michael nodded. I followed his example nervously.

"Keep an eye on her today, Edward. If anything happens, call me. Emmett gave you my personal number, yes?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Remember Edward, she is not to leave the house. Not even to go to the gardens. She hasn't quite earned that privilege back yet. Just follow her and make sure she stays out of trouble."

"Yes, sir," I complied with more caution. That's the second time someone has warned me about this girl. How much chaos can one person cause?

He stared at me clinically for a moment too long, before turning and walking towards the elevator, Michael following discreetly behind. He didn't even leave his newspaper.

For the next few hours, I was bored. My crappy flip phone had one Wordsearch game, and even the hard mode was too easy to challenge me. There were no other rooms along the stretch of hallway, no people to watch or windows to stare out of. Finally, after a long, long time and near unbearable silence, the door opened again.

She was different from the last time I saw her. No longer did despair cling to her warm brown eyes nor did any tearstains mare her pale porcelain skin. No, as the girl caught sight of me there was no sadness, or helplessness or fear. Just deep-seated loathing, and a clear desire to cause me pain.

I internally sighed. This was going to be a long day.

AAA

I was right.

Despite everything I did to prepare - all the money and time and pep talks in the mirror - the day was awful, for exactly two reasons.

One, my clear overreliance on Emmett had led me not to question any specifics about this job. Follow her, yes. Guard her, sure. But I hadn't stopped to think of anything past the broad concept. Was I allowed breaks? Could I sit or drink or eat or use the bathroom? Could I afford to take my eyes off her for one single minute without everything going to shit? In my hubris and carelessness, I hadn't stopped to think things through, and the fatigue was hitting me hard.

Second, was the clear fact that I would, henceforth, be spending all day, every day with someone who despised me.

I'd never been hated by anyone. My whole life I was always the guy everyone got along with. Passive. Quiet. Nonconfrontational. But these last few years had dragged my arse through the pyre, and now I was under the condemning eyes of a girl whose life I ruined.

The only positive was that, after a brutal few seconds where I was certain she'd try to claw my eyes out, she proceeded to pretend that I didn't exist. I supposed it was the best treatment I could hope for given the circumstances, but the circumstances only got worse.

That first day, was my first real look into what life was like for her here. In the kitchen, where she stopped to make herself breakfast and the maids' gaze would glaze right over her. In the hallways, where the random guards stationed around would watch her discreetly but wouldn't say a thing. Even people midway through conversations would hush as we approached, staring pointedly away until we were at a safe distance before promptly starting up again. Why did they shun her, I had no clue? And worst of all, she seemed perfectly used to it. Was it always like this? Did she really have no friends here? No one she could trust or rely on? Or did she have a friend, only for him to be savagely ripped away for the mortal sin of daring to help her escape?

And as they ignored her, she ignored me, wandering aimlessly through the manor and leaving me to follow like a dependent puppy. I didn't really know what she liked to do with her time, what did one do in a beautiful golden cage? But with so much to do inside the manor, I was at least expecting something.

But there was nothing.

She seemed... lost.

Lifeless, lethargic, like she had no purpose, and despite all the advice I was given just the day before, I had to bite my tongue to stop myself from speaking up. I felt so guilty. She was miserable here. It was clear as water in a crystal glass, and I wanted so badly to reach out to her, but what would I even say? Sorry I drugged you and dragged you back to captivity? Sorry, I traded your life for mine? Sorry, you now have to see my face every single day? No, I doubted that was what she wanted to hear, and to ask for forgiveness would be a slap in the face. I wouldn't make this harder just so I could feel better, but the more she drifted along, downcast and withdrawn, the more terrible I felt.

And it only got worse whenever she paused before one of those giant windows. There was such desperate, hopeless longing. What I had robbed from her...

"Do you really have to stand so close to me?"

I jumped as her snide demand ripped right through my helpless wallowing. I stared at her dumbly.

"How close am I supposed to be?"

She scoffed, sneering, resentment and revulsion filling every pore of her pretty face.

"A few states away would suit me marvellously." She mocked, before spinning on her heel and swiftly storming away from me.

What... what was that?

Guess she did still have some fight left after all. Well, it wasn't surprising. If someone took me away from my family, I'd fight tooth and nail to get them back. Objectively, I was pleased. No one should be so mistreated they lost all hope of a better tomorrow. Unobjectivly, though, I knew that spirit was only going to make this job that much harder and again, could only hope I was up for the challenge.

We eventually found our way into a library, which was, predictably, absolutely amazing. There were thousands of books, all neatly shelved in aisle after aisle of dark wood-panelled walls and large double-vaulted diamond pane glass windows. A sleek, seamlessly carved curved staircase joining the ground with a second and third level, thick chippendale railing separating explorers from a potentially nasty fall. There were even several older books locked inside shiny glass cases, and on closer inspection, I could only conclude that those books were rare, and worth a fortune.

I was awed by the sight, hungry with desire to consume every tome. But I had a job to do.

We remained in that room for the rest of the day. She, curled up on a comfy burgundy armchair, while I stood awkwardly off to one side. My legs were already starting to burn. My back was stiff, my throat parched, my feet aching in the buttery soft Italian leather. By the time the sun was setting, I was kicking myself for being so unprepared and was honestly so close to breaking, when the double doors opened and in stepped piercing ominous eyes that went right through me, fixating solely on the brown-haired beauty.

"Isabella."

After how badly their last interaction went, I was not looking forward to another blowout. Fortunately, though, he seemed in a good mood as he strolled confidently into the room, smiling at her fondly as he claimed the chair opposite her.

"So, how was your day?" He asked pleasantly, watching endearingly as she marked her place in the book and set it down on the coffee table between them. She fiddled with the hem of her pretty summer dress and scrutinized everything in the room but him.

"It was fine."

"Just 'fine'?" He pressed, clearly unimpressed with her short reply. Unfortunately, she neglected the danger signs and gave him nothing but a small nod. He frowned.

"I was told you didn't call for lunch. You know how I feel about you skipping meals. If you can't take responsibility for feeding yourself, then I will be forced to assign someone to do it for you." He sounded like a parent lecturing a naughty child, so patronising, yet indulgent. She noticed too, by the way her face soured. I held my breath and hoped to God she wouldn't lose her temper, but all she did was huff through her nose and mutter a quiet, "I'm not hungry."

And now he was angry. And the strange thing was I didn't know why. He didn't like the fact that she hadn't eaten? He cared about her wellbeing, even though she was his prisoner? It was baffling, truly, and I had no idea what to think, but I saw the way his nostrils flared and his jaw sharply tighten, and wanted to shake her.

Why are you provoking him, you reckless idiot?!

"Isabella," Her name was a harsh reprimand, "I realise the last few months have been difficult for you, but that is absolutely no excuse to adopt such immature behaviour. I will not have you deliberately harming yourself, nor will I allow you to abuse your freedom."

"Freedom." She scoffed.

That was absolutely the wrong thing to say.

A chill descended on the room, so cold I swore my blood curdled. Whatever pleasant mood he was in was sure as shit gone now. Oh fuck.

"Is my generosity not good enough for you? If you wish, we could always visit the basement and spend some quality time with dear Eric. Or I could put you back in your cage?"

Just as suddenly as the fire blazed, it was abruptly snuffed out. A horrible, haunted look distorted her features and she cowered into the armchair with an expression of utter terror. I was lost until I remembered exactly what happened to Eric.

'He made her watch.'

"No." She surrendered pleadingly. "I'm sorry."

He let her squirm for a few long moments before finally relaxing into the cool leather. I breathed an internal sigh of relief until I noticed the side of his mouth quirk. It was as though he took pleasure in tormenting her. Pleasure, in how terrified she was. She was completely at his mercy, and I was just now realising what an awful place that was to be.

He observed her contemplatively from his throne of power, before easing his arm down to his knee and gently patting his lap.

Like calling a dog to heel.

She closed her eyes. Resignation heavy on her brow as she took a deep breath and reluctantly stood. I watched in growing discomfort as she inched her way around the table closer to her predator. She shifted uncomfortably beneath his burning gaze, before clamouring awkwardly onto his lap, squeaking like a mouse as he yanked her forward, forcing her to straddle his thighs as their chests brushed together, the swell of her breasts squashed against the silk of his expensive shirt. Her face was flaming red, and if I were honest I most likely wasn't fairing much better. She tried to avoid his eyes, but he didn't let her hide, tan hand hunting into her hair and giving a demanding tug, forcing her to crane her neck and stare up at him, cowed.

"I see that smart mouth of yours is still in need of taming."

She shuddered.

"Your freedom will be earned with time, little one, but only through obedience. You betrayed my trust, and one does not simply betray me lightly. You must prove to me you never plan to do anything so foolish again. If you do, I do not believe you will enjoy the consequences."

This... display, was even more twisted than the first and worse. This wasn't for my benefit, he hardly even acknowledged I was in the room. No. This was for her. He was putting her in her place.

How long? How long had she been here? How did she end up captive to this powerful, ruthless man who looked near twice her age? What was the connection, between them? Why was she so afraid? Where was her family? Why did he take her in the first place? So many questions, and what was worse, was the overwhelming sense of shame.

I did this.

"When will I be allowed outside?"

I didn't think it possible to sound so sad. I couldn't imagine not being able to leave the house or see the sun, feel the wind brush my hair or the rain caress my skin. Such simple things I took for granted every single day. And to have it all just snatched away...

"We'll get there, pet. Perhaps this will be an effective lesson where all else have failed. Although, if you truly wish for leniency, some affection from you might help sway me in your favour."

She gulped, visibly, and tried to turn away, but his grip was unyielding. Cupping her chin with his other hand, he grazed his thumb over her plump bottom lip and ordered softly, "Kiss me."

Why was he doing this to her?

Here she was, clearly wanting nothing to do with him, and here he was, practically all over her. It was horrible, disgusting, repulsive, and yet... I couldn't help but watch.

Watch, as she released a small, defeated sigh before reaching up and quickly sealed her lips to his. He reacted immediately, pulling her impossibly closer and disregarding her painful whimpers as he bruised her mouth with unapologetic savagery.

I couldn't take this anymore.

This... this was abuse. It was clear she didn't want this. Didn't want him. But she was obviously afraid of him, and he played with her fear like the fucking pied piper!

Eventually, he released her, stroking down her hair with a contented hum. She wasn't quite so at ease and hid her burning face in his strong chest. He chuckled.

"You are so sweet, my little Isabella. I couldn't picture what life would be like without you. I'm glad I'll never find out."

True to his word, after escorting her to the dining room, he promptly deposited her back on his lap and proceeded to hand-feed her dinner while the maids served and stared. I could practically taste her mortification, but she took it all without protest, obviously frightened of angering him again.

At last, something we had in common.

When the meal was done, he picked her up and carried her back to his - their? - room. A moment of waiting and he was back at the door, addressing me directly for the first time since morning.

"You may go. Be back here again the same time tomorrow."

"Yes, sir," I croaked, overwhelmingly relieved my first day was finally over.

Fuck, I needed a drink.