Hi Ladies,
I don't have much to say, but I do want to thank everyone on Facebook for being so eager to read this chapter. As for a review I received asking about birthdays and middle names, I want everything to be as authentic as possible so I have made them all up. The only thing I'm borrowing from Twilight is the character names. I hope you understand.
Anyway, thanks for reading and I love your comments. They help spark the imagination so please keep them coming;)
Chapter 15
Edward-
I threw my arm over my eyes in an attempt to block out the blinding rays of sunlight glaring through my window. The condo was laced in silence as I came awake, my groggy brain coasting over the last few days as a flurry of images assaulted me. I rolled to my back staring up at the ceiling fan, watching the blades glide in a rhythmic circle above my head.
Three days ago I married Isabella Swan. I went from a careless bachelor to a husband in a matter of a few hours. The muscles in my abdomen clenched at the thought, the smooth silk of sheets caressing my skin when I tensed at the memory. I couldn't help but wonder if I'd made a colossal mistake.
Of all the people I could've chosen for this endeavor, perhaps I'd been a tad overzealous thinking Bella would fit the bill.
For starters, she had massive trust issues that stretched a mile long, and I wasn't sure I had the necessary patience required to deal with something of that magnitude. Even after spending the last few days in her company, she still stiffened whenever I touched her.
Beyond a shadow of a doubt, the girl had been victimized in one fashion or another. The thought filled me with a blinding rage, and I wanted to beat the piss out of whoever hurt her. My fist clenched, my knuckles turning white, causing the joints to ache. I could practically feel bone-crushing beneath my fist as a red haze filled my vision.
While every instinct I had wanted to protect her from her past, I also needed to think about my own future. Did Bella have what it would take to fool Carlisle? That was my biggest question, and my gut seemed to already know the answer.
She'd lived here for the last two days, and she still appeared as lost as ever. I knew it was going to take her a while to acclimate to the new space around her. But she never approached the fridge as if she lived here, and last night I could swear I'd heard her crying.
The thought of her curled up in the middle of her bed crying plagued me, but I was at a complete loss in that regard. Should I go try to help? Or should I leave her alone to deal with the demons? I had zero experience in that regard. Unable to fathom an answer, I quietly headed to my room and downed a few shots before crawling between the sheets. Sleep alluded me when I heard the sound of Bella sniffing penetrating her door. I had tried to be as patient with my new wife as I could, yet when I heard her crying, I felt like a complete and utter failure. In the bright light of day, the feeling hadn't lessened, my chest pinching at the memory of the sound of her sniffling.
Two days ago, I had taken a half dozen attempts to get a photo that reflected two happy people. If I looked closely at the picture fear still laced her gaze, the corners of her mouth frozen and there was little doubt her grin was forced.
'Look at Hope, princess,' I insisted as she stood like a statue next to me. Her arms had felt like bricks of ice pressed against my chest, and she smelled of fear.
Responding to my command her attention dropped to the one-eyed kitten pressed against her breasts. Almost instantly her features softened and some of her distaste evaporated.
The lines around her mouth softened, and her fingertip drifted over the silken fur of the dozing kitten.
Once I thought her mind was preoccupied enough with the cat in her hands, using my crooked finger beneath her chin, I urged her to look up at me.
I snapped a picture before she could become too uncomfortable. The results were something to be admired. She didn't look like the adoring wife I'd envisioned, but she also didn't have a murderous gleam in her eye either.
After several minutes of contemplation, I sent that photo to the Chicago Tribune with a short announcement about my impromptu wedding. It was a cowardly thing to do. I should just drive over and confront my family myself. If Bella was remotely ready I would've paraded my fake wife right under Carlisle's nose, but there was no way she could tolerate a face-to-face with Dad.
I expected my phone to wail to life minutes after I sent in the photo, yet to my surprise, it had remained uncharacteristically quiet. If I didn't know better I would've thought perhaps they hadn't published the announcement, but I received the copy yesterday.
I shifted my gaze to the offending cell seated in the center of my nightstand expecting the damn thing to blare to life at any given moment. When the cool plastic merely sat there in silence, I blew a sigh of relief.
There was no telling what Carlisle's reaction was going to be once he found out. Maybe he'd clap me on the shoulder and wish me well as he had with Emmett when he'd met Rose. Somehow I didn't anticipate that particular reception. The shards of ice gathering in my chest predicted the rage I was going to receive. There was a chance I was exaggerating the level of pissed Carlisle would be, but instinct contradicted my optimism.
With the number of phone calls and messages I had managed to evade in the last few weeks, there was no way he would be remotely pleased with my blatant disregard for his intentions.
"Fuck," I huffed, shoving the black sheets and comforter aside. My feet had barely touched the wooden floor when a hard pounding started. Jolted by the unexpected noise, I rushed toward the nightstand and retrieved my 9mm from the top drawer. Checking the clip, I flipped the safety switch off, fully prepared to handle whatever situation arose.
Yanking my bedroom door open, I strode down the hall clad in my boxer briefs, not taking the time to pull on a pair of slacks or jeans. I entered the living space to see Bella's wide eyes focused on the vibrating front door, and she was desperately clutching a meowing kitten to her chest. I quickly skimmed her slim figure, ensuring she was okay, my grip on my gun tightening. When the pounding stopped and silence followed, I turned to my wife.
Despite the warmth of the days, the air conditioner kept the condo on the cooler side, and she'd dressed for the frigid air. Thick wool socks covered her dainty feet, and a matching sweatsuit covered nearly every inch of her. If I wasn't about to face an unknown assailant, I might have found her kind of adorable. Considering our unpredictable situation, however, I opted for the lethal calm settling into my bones.
She must've sensed my presence because her wide startled eyes connected with mine. Placing a forefinger against my lips, I urged her to be silent. Crossing the distance separating us, I placed my mouth against her ear. "Go to my room. In the closet, there's a lever behind the suits next to the shoe rack. Pull it and wait for me."
When the pounding started on the door once again, she leapt from the stool she'd been sitting on and scurried down the hall. I waited until she disappeared around the corner before cautiously approaching the entryway. With a press of a button on the monitor, I found my father standing in front of my condo.
Thankfully, I'd had the video doorbell installed as soon as it came out on the market. Seeing the harsh lines of my dad's frown gave me ample opportunity to prepare for the confrontation I'd anticipated.
Preparing for the showdown of a lifetime, I shoved my fingers through my hair, hoping to muse the strands. It was best if I looked like I just spent the night fucking my wife instead of sleeping in a cold bed alone. Setting the gun on the mahogany side table, I unbolted the door and pulled it open.
Carlisle's grim steely blue eyes coasted over my naked torso, briefly taking note of my boxers before swinging back to mine. A lesser man would've fallen at my father's feet if pinned with those narrowed pupils, yet years of experience had me standing at attention. I felt as though a steel rod had been implanted in my spine, all of my muscles going taut under his scrutiny.
His thin lips parted on a sneer, baring his teeth with an angered snarl. He gestured to my apparel, appearing very unimpressed by my impatience to answer the door. "Still playing the fuckboy, I see." His hard gaze swept the interior of my apartment, searching for the woman of the night he expected to find there no doubt. "What flavor is it this week? Blonde? Brunette?" When he didn't find what he was seeking, he pinned me with another hard look, his eyes turning into blue shards of glass. "One of these days you're going to reap what you sow. How many bastards do you have running around this city?"
If Carlisle was anyone else, I would have buried his ass next to the river upstate. The chill in his eyes coupled with his disapproving tone irked me to no end. In reflex my hands curled into fists, a red haze tinging my gaze. In a clipped voice that matched his, I said, "You and Mom always did want a gaggle of grandchildren. As soon as I manage to gather all of my bastards into one place, I will invite you over."
I pivoted on my heel, my gaze hooded to disguise the anger his presence sparked as he rounded me and headed toward the sofa. He turned to regard me for a moment, his pointer finger shaking at me when he sat back on the cushions and rested his booted foot on his knee. "Watch your fucking tongue, Edward. Don't be a goddamn smart ass. I've withstood about as much of your insolence as one can take."
His lips pursed in a thin line, a warning evident in his snapping gaze. Judging by Carlisle's stance, I assumed my father still didn't know about my current status because that would've been the first thing out of his mouth. Testing my theory, I asked, "You haven't seen anything from the paper lately, have you?"
He rubbed the scruff lining his top lip, and his glare shot daggers straight at me. "We all don't have the leisure of dallying, Edward. There's work to be done."
"Work? Who the fuck do you think runs these streets. You might be sitting behind a desk making deals you can't bring into fruition, but I'm the one busting my ass every night to make sure people pay what they owe." My biceps bulged as tension wound in my gut. "If it wasn't for me, you'd be broke because all those bastards would've stolen all your profits. Don't talk to me about work."
"Edward," he started with a nod. "You're right. You're the brawn behind the brains. All I meant is that I haven't had the time nor the inclination to read the paper. Your mother's been under the weather lately and as far as I know, hasn't gotten out of bed in two days. Usually, if there's something worth knowing she tells me all about it–whether I want to know or not."
Good. I can't wait to see the look on his face when he finds out the truth.
A flash of pleasure swept through me, and I turned toward the hallway. "Make yourself as comfortable as you can, old man. I will slip some pants on. There are a few things we need to discuss."
The look on Carlisle's face when I called him old man sent a thrill through me. His jaw clenched and his teeth ground together, annoyance painted on his face. "Hurry up. I don't have all day. We have plenty of things to arrange over the next couple of weeks."
Smirking in response, I left him sitting there to head to my room. Spotting the slacks I'd thrown over a chair the night before, I headed in that direction and grabbed them from the back. Once I snapped them over my lean hips, I turned toward the closet. Entering the walk-in I strode straight to the suits lining the back wall, and with practiced ease found the lever. With a firm tug, the wall shifted, and I walked into a private room.
Bella sat against the wall biting her nails, holding Hope as if she were a newly discovered lifeline. With no time to hesitate, I approached her, her startled gaze settling on mine. I gestured for her to rise, and when she climbed to her feet, I stared at her long and hard. "Get ready for the performance of your life. My father is here, and apparently, he doesn't know of our unannounced marriage. He's going to implode."
"Edward," she said, nervously licking her lips. She trembled from head to toe, and inwardly I cursed, knowing exactly what she would say. "I'm not ready for this. We both know I'm not. How many pictures did we take just to make it look right? There are no second chances with this."
"You're right," I snapped, her eyes going wide at my tone. My life was on the line, and I couldn't coddle her through this part. Impatience warred with the frustration welling in my chest, threatening to erupt. "There are no second chances, Bella. I am paying you for a service. I need you to gather the courage I've witnessed a thousand times. You can do this, Bella."
Her pointed chin wobbled, and she gave a stiff nod. "J-just tell me what to do."
"I'm heading back to the living room. Wait about a minute or two and come out there. Come to wherever I'm sitting and sit on my lap." When a dazed look entered her green eyes, I growled, hating the war raging within me, making me snappy. "And for fuck's sake don't look scared. Whatever persona you used to lure men before this, draw on those skills, and run with them. He will pick up on any inconsistencies in our story." I ran a steady hand down her arm hoping to offer support. "You got this, princess."
She looked frightened but slowly she transformed. Her head snapped to attention and her shoulders went back. Bella was as poised as I'd ever seen her, she chewed on her lip for a fraction of a second. When she noticed my gaze lower to her bottom lip, it popped free from her teeth, remembering what I said. With a slight grin, I waited while she fumbled for the right words to express her concerns. "How did we meet? I'm sure you don't want him hearing the truth."
I considered her question, running my hands through my hair as I sifted through possible scenarios. The only explanation Carlisle might believe was oddly enough the truth. My father would never believe I bumped into a chick at the store and fell in love. He might, however, believe I was so intrigued by the girl bold enough to steal from me that I couldn't let her go. "Let me handle that question if it arises."
She took a deep calming breath as if to release the tension whirling inside her. Finally, she nodded, her lips parting on a rush of breath and she gained her composure. "Ok. I will be out there in a minute."
Her gaze wandered down my chest, lingering on my abdomen before dropping lower. My cock twitched unexpectedly, and abruptly I turned away. The last thing I needed was a terror-stricken wife facing down Carlisle. I was almost to the door when her quiet question stopped me in my tracks.
"Are you going to put a shirt on?"
I hesitated on the threshold of the secret passageway. A trace of fear edged her expression, and another wave of frustration sailed through me. "No." I gestured to the slacks I wore. "You're lucky I pulled my pants on, princess." Her attention darted to slacks covering my ass, the skin heating where she stared. "It would help if you touched me like you want to, Bella. It needs to appear real."
I exited my room and headed for the kitchen. Something told me my new wife would need a few more minutes to gather her courage, and making a pot of coffee seemed like a good distraction. If I had to sit under the steely stare Carlisle fixated on me when I left the hallway without caffeine, I might tell the old man to go fuck himself.
I only called him old man to ruffle his feathers. While Carlisle was on the cusp of fifty—he didn't look a day over thirty-five. Every time I called him old man however I half expected to see steam shoot out of his ears. I never would've guessed my father was so egotistical that the mention of his age always knocked him down a peg.
"If I have to suffer your lectures this early I'm going to need fortification. Want a cup of coffee?" I didn't wait for his answer, disappearing into the kitchen and striding toward the Keurig K-cafe in the counter of the countertop. The damn thing was capable of making any type of coffee one could want. Yanking the drawer open I retrieved three K-cup pods, popped one inside, and hit the brew button.
As I waited for the coffee to brew I turned on my heel to find Carlisle leaning against the adjacent counter. When his lips parted, I held up my hand stopping him from speaking. "I just asked for you to wait until I have a cup of coffee, Dad. Two fucking minutes."
He didn't afford me the luxury of waiting, his thin lips twitching with a trace of amusement. "From your reaction, I'm guessing you received the hundred or so messages I left over the course of the last few weeks.." He fidgeted with the towel lying on the counter, yet his gaze never wavered from me. "She's a lovely girl from the photos Mateo sent. He also sent me a detailed account of all of her interests. I think you two would complement one another."
Oh, fuck my life. He didn't get it. He honestly didn't get the fucking problem. Perhaps if he'd let me meet the woman and form my own opinion I would have acted differently. It was his constant need to control my damn life and steal my options that led us to this fucking point. I didn't bother to respond because in five minutes all of his planning and manipulation would be thrown out the window.
Clearing my throat, I rubbed the grit of sleep from my eyes before turning back to the Keurig. I placed my cup in the cove and watched the darkened brew fill the cup. Once the mug was full, I offered it to Dad and pointed to the fridge. "There's cream in the fridge."
As I slid the next pod in, Carlisle easily crossed the space and collected the carton of cream on the top shelf. He retraced his steps and poured a dollop of cream into his cup. Even while my father stirred the cream into his coffee, his pleased expression caused my gut to roll. "Mateo calls every day. They should be in town in a few days. Remember you are expected at dinner. I will call to remind you of the details."
"I bet," I mumbled, my spine feeling like it would snap in two at any given moment. Ignoring his stare, I poured my own cup and added cream before directing him toward the dining room table. On impulse, I threw the third pod for Bella into the coffeemaker before leaving the kitchen. The clink of my spoon hitting ceramic filled the room as I followed him. "Why don't we sit down. I have some information that might complicate matters."
"What sort of complications?" He asked, sliding into the chair across from me. Placing the ceramic mug before him, he leaned back in his chair to study me closely, trying to decipher what my news would be no doubt. "All I need you to do is be there. Everything else is taken care of. The hard parts are over. I can't see how it could be complicated."
I toyed with the rim of my cup, my pointed stare drilling into my father as I settled into my chair preparing for World War III. "Does Mom know about this? I can't for the life of me believe she would support something so barbaric as to arrange a marriage for me."
He shifted in his seat with a measure of discomfort, the legs of the chair scraping against the hardwood floor with his movement. He averted his gaze with a shrug. "Your mother will get on board when she realizes there isn't anything to fear."
"I'm going to take that as a no. There is no way Mom would support you linking me to a woman I didn't want." I watched him shift before me, and a thought occurred to me when he remained silent. "She doesn't know, does she?" His nostrils flared and sparks ignited in the cool depths of his chilling stare. "She's always preached about finding the right one, love, and all that other bullshit women expect."
"Your mother will find out once you're planning your wedding," he stated with a wave of his fingers as if none of it mattered. "That's all she wants. To be there and to be included. The spouse makes little difference."
Impatiently, I glanced toward the hallway, willing Bella to make an appearance. When the hall remained devoid of human life, I tapped the table with annoyance, returning my attention to Carlisle.
The man was stern. He oozed power and confidence with every breath he took. It was the middle of June yet he wore an Armani suit, his hair pristine, not a strand out of place. He had the ability to strike fear in millions of people with a flick of his fingers.
I scratched at the scruff on my chin, unable to look away from the man who was Carlisle Cullen. He was my father. He was the leader of the Deviants and the bane of my existence. No matter what I did it wasn't good enough, and yeah, he may be molding me to take over the business, but he pissed me off to no end.
The chair squeaked under his weight as he sat back, rolling his fingers impatiently. "So, what did you want to discuss with me?"
I glanced down the empty hallway one last time, my jaw clenched as my temper burned hot. Where the fuck was Bella? The longer she took, the more irritated I became. What did I have to do to make her feel safe? I understood her apprehension about facing Carlisle. Hell, grown men had committed suicide to avoid such a fate. She had to know I would keep her safe at all costs, or at least, I had tried to make her aware of my protection. Perhaps there was another failure on the horizon, I thought as unease swept through me.
Just when I would've given up hope, I heard the patter of bare feet coming from the direction of my bedroom. My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth when I followed Bella's progress as she sauntered toward me clad in the shirt I'd discarded the night before. A quick glance confirmed the button-up covered everything, a few buttons gaping open at the top, revealing a triangle of cream-colored skin. The hem draped down to the top of her knees, the slit in the material affording me a glimpse of her bare thigh with every step she took. Her hair was in disarray, appearing as if she'd just rolled out of my bed, and pure lust hit me like a fucking bus.
My cock twitched in response, and I swallowed the frisson of heat starting in the tip of my tongue to course through my body.
I was so shocked I forgot to scoot my chair out. Bella didn't falter, however, coming right to where I sat and she wrapped her arm around my shoulders, her fingers coasting through the hair on my nape. A pretty pout lined her lips as her gaze dropped to mine. "Baby, you didn't tell me we have company. I would've put something else on if I'd realized."
"Why?" I asked, letting hunger guide my actions. I might not be a man to force a woman, but I was a man. And Bella was my wife. Taking advantage of my position, my attention lingered on her tits, groaning when the buds hardened in response. Draping an arm around her waist the chair scraped the floor as I created space for her. "You look perfectly edible to me."
I was so enraptured by my fake wife I momentarily forgot Carlisle was watching. With slight pressure on her hip, I urged her to sit on my thigh. When my father cleared his throat to interrupt, I forcibly dragged my gaze away from Bella's breasts to focus on Carlisle.
A smirk pulled at my lips as I stared my father down, Bella wiggled on my lap, the heat of her ass burning straight through my slacks, a breathy gasp escaping her parted lips. "Dad, this is my wife, Bella."
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