DISCLAIMER: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc., are the intellectual property of the respective author. The original characters and plot are the property of Stephenie Meyer. No copyright infringement is intended.
-Chapter Thirty-Three-
Edward made several copies of the photos and sent them to various news outlets. The action plan was simple: hell was raining in Chicago, and the senator was about to get drenched. The senator cast the first stone, announcing war against his son, and Edward was determined to win.
The goal was to destroy the senator…one filthy and scandalous picture at a time.
It wouldn't take long for the pictures to circulate within the media, and Edward expected to see a news story on it within the next few hours. But, soon, those secrets would spread, and the world would know who Carlisle Cullen was, mainly his loving and drug-induced wife, Esme.
Edward had no remorse for his mother. He didn't care how she would take seeing those pictures of her husband for the first time. The years of bible-thumping and trying to exorcise the demon out of her boy had left Edward feeling slighted.
"She found God after her fourth miscarriage," Edward said, taking a can of tomato soup off the shelf and putting it in the basket.
The corner store up the street from our hotel was the closest thing to a food market within a twenty-mile radius. It had everything you needed to stock up a bomb shelter, plus a spin display rack of souvenir key chains.
"Four miscarriages?" I gasped, covering my mouth with my hand. "That's horrible. How old were you?"
"I think ten or so. I don't remember. All I know is that my parents quit trying after that. That's why they both resent me so much.
Edward seemed unaffected by his parent's lack of love as he scrunched up his nose and sniffed a scented candle. He put it back on the shelf and looked down at me, reading my shocked expression.
"What?"
"They actually fucking blame you?"
"They didn't blame me for the miscarriages...at least, I don't think they did. It's just, well," Edward shrugged. "I was a disappointment. They had high expectations of me, and I failed to reach them." Chuckling, he walked toward the end of the aisle and threw another bag of chips into the basket. "My dad told me something was wrong with me." He turned to me and smirked, tapping a finger on his temple. "Like, I'm fucking crazy."
I snorted, rolling my eyes.
He wasn't that far off…
"Anyways, that's the story about my shitty upbringing."
It was silly, but I wanted to comfort him and tell him his parents were wrong. He was a good person and didn't deserve his parents to treat him like a monster, a bad seed, or whatever. They were the actual bad guys in this story, not Edward.
"No wonder you turned to a life of crime," I muttered, following him through the aisles.
Edward stopped and turned to me with his hands full of Ramen noodles; he dropped them into the basket, adding to the weight. "That's what my therapist said, trying to rationalize these urges of mine, but both of you are wrong. Sometimes there isn't a reason for anything. You just are who you are."
"Yeah," I said, glancing behind me and spying on the clerk up front.
He was a burly man, probably well over three hundred pounds, with a ZZ Top beard. He was flipping through the glossy pages of a gossip magazine and not paying attention to his only customers in the back of the store.
I turned back to Edward and whispered. "Have you ever killed anyone?"
He quirked an eyebrow at me, tossing a couple of water bottles. "Have you?"
"No, not a person, but I did kill my hamster."
He bit his lip ring, sucking it between his
teeth and trying not to laugh. "A hamster?" I nodded. "And how did you commit this rodent homicide?"
My face flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't have a cage for him, so, I just emptied out our towel cupboard and put him in there and closed the door. He ended up eating himself to death on the plywood."
He shook his head. "You're fucking bullshitting, aren't you?"
"No, I'm totally serious. I would check on him, and I thought he got enough air in there, but that wasn't the cause of death. Gluttony was." I shrugged. "I didn't know that they just keep eating."
"Bullshit! Now, I know you're fucking with me."
I laughed. "Fine, the circumstances of the hamster's death may have been embellished, but the facts still remain the same," I paused, my tone grave. "I'm a murderer, Edward."
"Yeah, well, until you put a pistol to a dude's face," he raised his hand and put two of his fingers to my head, mimicking a gun, "and pull the trigger, you're still considered a killing virgin."
"Are you...still a virgin?" I knew the answer.
"No," he said, lowering his fingers and taking a step back. "I popped my cherry a long fucking time ago."
"Who did you kill?" I kept my voice low, barely above a whisper.
"Some guy that was trying to rip me off," he said, waving his hand dismissively.
Piquing my interest, I wanted to ask him more about this side of him that I'd always known, but Edward's attention was on the overhead security camera above us and how the lens was facing the front counter. We were out of its view. Edward grunted in displeasure and then went back to shopping.
Today was an uneventful outing; all we were doing was scouting the store and pinpointing its weaknesses and strengths.
It seemed like a waste of time.
"So," I started casually, trying to squash the tense air between us, "we're really just shopping then? No stickup?"
"Yup, pretty much," he said, bobbing his head. "Even the smallest heist needs proper planning and preparation. You can't just go in the store waving your gun and demand money from the drawer. There are too many unseen complications. What if the clerk has a gun, and you wind up getting yourself killed."
"Do you always plan things so thoroughly?"
"Up until I met you?" he asked, peering over at me over his shoulder. "Yeah, I did. I was pretty fucking anal about it."
"Up until you met me?" I repeated, glaring at him. "So, you're blaming me? How is this my fault?"
"Because love turns a guy into an idiot, and I'm a fucking idiot over you," he said conversationally, very matter-of-fact.
I blushed despite myself. "I would say I'm sorry..."
"But you're not." He smiled crookedly, the corner of his eyes wrinkled and scrunched.
I shook my head, tried to keep the satisfied grin off my face, and failed miserably.
"Here, let me take that," he said, grabbing the heavy and full basket from my hands.
I stood there and watched him continue to browse, picking and choosing random items off the shelf. He was eyeing the camera again, occasionally glancing up front to the clerk.
He was overly careful and prepared, unwilling to walk into a situation blindly, but that didn't make sense to me.
Last night, he told me about this plan to make our faces known to the media, shaming the senator, but he had masks and gloves on our bed to hide our identities, which defeated the purpose.
Old habits die hard.
Unless.
The gun in my waistband weighed a ton and instantly reminded me of its presence. This impromptu stickup was a bad idea, and I knew that when it occurred to me, but I was bored and eager to shake things up. If Edward truly wanted to make our existence known, we had to be crazy and stop being safe and cautious all the time.
"Balls to the fucking walls," I said under my breath.
Taking a quick look at Edward, whose back was still facing me, I reached into the front of my pants and pulled out my gun. Cocking it quietly, I took a deep and calming breath, preparing myself for what I was about to do.
It was time to get fucking nuts.
My heart beat fast and loud, blocking out all background sounds. I charged the counter with the barrel of the gun aimed at the clerk's head. He looked up at me as I approached, showing no signs of fear or surprise. He didn't even raise his hands.
"Give me all your fucking cash, NOW!" I shouted.
The guy stared at me with these large blue eyes, clearly unfazed by my threats. Granted, I was a tiny girl with a 9mm Glock, but it didn't take much to pull the trigger and blow off his fucking head.
"What are you deaf? Open the God damn drawer, asshole!" I raised my voice an octave higher, screeching at him.
The gun was unsteady in my hands, shaking slightly as the situation's intensity kicked into overdrive. I gripped the handle with two hands, stepping towards the counter and pushing the barrel into the guy's bearded face.
He smirked, reaching down and to the side of him, nowhere near the cash register, and my eyes followed his movement, seeing the top half of the shotgun.
"Don't even fucking think about it," Edward said, appearing out of nowhere, pressing the muzzle of his gun to the man's forehead. "Now open fucking the register."
The man soon realized he was out of favorable options and complied with our demands. He flipped Edward off and mumbled under his breath, punching in a few buttons. The drawer popped out a second later, hitting that fat bastard in his gut and displaying little stacks of tens and twenties.
"Shoot the fucker in the head if he moves," Edward told me, lowering his gun and taking fistfuls of cash, stuffing it into a small paper bag.
I nodded, glaring back at the guy as he stared at me, impassively memorizing every curve of my face. That was the point; I wanted him to remember me.
"It's time to take a little nap, asshole," Edward said, striking the man over the head with the butt of the gun, knocking him unconscious. He fell off his stool and tumbled to the floor with a loud thud.
I kept my gun pointed, never wavering my aim.
It took us a total of five minutes to rob him blind. For those three hundred seconds, my heart pounded, my pupils dilated, and my mind raced, chaotically and astoundingly alert. Time moved at a slow yet rapid pace. The adrenaline coursing through my veins and saturating my blood gave me this sense of endless freedom.
It was one of the best things I'd ever felt in my eighteen years.
Edward came around the counter, shaking his head at me and stuffing the gun into his waistband. Then, he grabbed me roughly by the arm, forcefully dragging my ass out the door.
He didn't speak a word to me until we were gingerly pulling out of the parking lot in the car. Usually, he liked to spin the tires and leave his mark, but not today. No, he was taking the evidence with him.
"What the fuck was that?" Edward snapped. "Do you have any idea how close you were to getting her chest blown off? That guy had a fucking shot gun, Bella. Shot gun! Do you have any fucking idea what that would do to me if he…." He clenched his jaw and tightened his fingers around the steering wheel.
"I'm sorry that I scared you."
He scoffed. "That's a fucking understatement."
"I got tired of waiting around for you," I said, shrugging my shoulders. "So sue me."
"Sue you? Do you realize that he can fucking pick us out of a line up now?" Edward ranted, looking in the rearview mirror.
"I thought that was the point," I shouted back. "How are we supposed to make our faces known if we hide them? Jesus, this was all your fucking idiot. I wanted to run like a cowards, but noooo."
"Bella, you don't fucking get it, do you? This isn't something you just fucking wing. You're so fucking…" he huffed.
"I'm what?"
He looked at me with his heated scowl, turning the wheel swiftly to the right and pulling into our hotel. It jerked my body to the left, nearly falling into his lap. I could feel the anger radiating off him. He slammed on the brakes, my hands flying up and bracing myself on the dashboard. He shoved the gear shift into 'park,' took the paper bag, and got out of the car. I watched him as he walked to my side, opened the car door, grabbed my arm, and yanked me to my feet.
"Come on," he barked, pulling me up the stairs.
When we got to our room, he forcefully flung me across the room, causing my feet to catch on the carpet, and I tripped, falling backward on the bed. He slammed the door and locked it; his dark and hooded eyes roamed over my chest as it rose and fell, panting heavily from all the exertion.
He wasn't mad.
No, I'd aroused Edward with my reckless behavior.
I pushed my body further on the mattress as he stalked towards me, his fingers clutched tightly around the paper bag. He stopped at the edge of the bed, one knee lifted and placed strategically between my parted legs. He opened the bag and dumped all the insides on top of me. Tens and twenties floated down and swayed across my aroused body.
"So fucking beautiful," he said, leaning over and trailing his lips along the hollow of my neck and jaw. I closed my eyes, relishing his breath's warmth and the touch of his hand as it slid down between my heaving breasts, past my stomach, and into the front of my pants. He gripped the gun and pulled it out, tossing it to the side. "And so fucking dangerous."
He kissed me along my chin, working his mouth up to mine, and by the time his tongue slipped out a licked my bottom lip, teasing and coaxing me, I was on the verge of combustion.
Grabbing the back of his head, I attacked him, pulling him down, pressing my lips to his forcefully, and deepening the kiss.
It was fierce and rough, his hands tearing and pulling at my shirt, practically ripping it off my back. My fingers were on the button of his jeans, unzipping them and trying to get them down and past his hips. Our mouths never disengaged, keeping that connection intact and undisrupted. He pulled my bra aside and exposed the top half of my breast, and with a manic passion, he took the nipple into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it. My back arched and contorted every time he tugged at it with his teeth.
He was slowly driving me crazy.
Layer upon layer, we hastily shed the rest of our clothes. My hands had a mind of their own, roaming and touching every aspect of Edward's hardened chest. I stared up at him in admiration, burning the sharpness of his jaw and the intensity of his eyes into my brain. He smirked with a cocky grin when he noticed my blatant gawking. He knew how fucking sexy he was and used it to his full advantage.
Edward pushed the money behind me off to the side. He gripped my hips and, in one swift motion, flipped me over on my stomach. Then, slipping his hand underneath me, he raised my ass and shoved my head down. I was completely exposed to him and breathlessly anticipated his next move. First, he spanked my ass a few times with his hand, whispering into my ear about how pretty of a red my skin had turned. Next, he rubbed and massaged the entire length of my slit, inserting his fingers into me only to withdraw them a second later. Again and again, he would work me into a panting frenzy, and I would be trembling with need.
He disappeared, and his fingers and warmth were suddenly gone. I strained my ears, trying to pinpoint his movements in the room, but as my body turned cold, missing his touch, I let out a sad whimper.
"Please," I begged into the comforter.
The bed shuddered under the sudden weight, and Edward's hands were on my ass, petting and rubbing me. He leaned over, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and yanked my head back. His mouth was on mine, kissing me and taking my bottom lip. The head of his cock had taken over for his fingers, sliding up and down my entrance, teasing but never penetrating me. I closed my eyes, trying to keep my moans under control and not wanting to sound like some shameless harlot.
Slapping my ass a few more times with the head, Edward entered me with one swift and brutal thrust. I yelped, feeling full and overwhelmed by his thickness. Those long, robust fingers kept a firm grip on my hair, and he pushed into me. Slow and steady at first, pacing himself, but when the feeling became too much and I let out a breathy and deep moan, he lost control. I clutched the sheets as he pounded me from behind. The force and the power behind every drive of his pelvis was my undoing.
My muscles tightened, and Edward cursed loudly, propelling us both closer and closer to the edge. I held on for dear life as he rammed in and out of me faster, harder, and relentlessly. Finally, my legs shook and weakened beneath me, causing me to cry out, begging and pleading for more.
Edward pushed forcefully into me, quickening his stride, and I came quickly. The warmth overwhelmed me, sending shivers throughout my body. It was incredible but fleeting, and soon it turned into a tingling and tickling sensation. It was sensitive to the touch. Thankfully, Edward was far behind, and with a few more thrusts, he came, grunting and hissing.
Collapsing on top of me and resting his forehead on my back, I felt my strength give and fell into the bed. He rolled off me, breathing heavily with his eyes closed. I propped myself up on my elbows and studied his face. He looked very young in his relaxed state, and I leaned over to kiss him. He placed his hand on the back of my head, holding me there and keeping his lips securely to mine.
It was perfect.
Then we heard the police sirens.