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-Nine-

Things were calm and serene, the weather was beautiful, and a slight breeze cooled my heated skin. The music pounded and thumped from inside the bar, somewhat muffled by the brick walls but still easily distinguishable to my attentive ears.

White Snake, I thought, keeping my eyes locked on the door of Jakes-O-Mine Saloon and Tattoo Parlor.

I was on the lookout and anxiously waiting for shit to hit the fan because I knew that at any moment, a large and burly biker could come stumbling out of the bar, drunk and armed. He would find Edward and me trying to steal his prized possession, and like a reflex, he would shoot to kill.

My left hand was hidden behind my back and wrapped firmly around the handle of the Glock. I'd tucked it in the waistband of my jeans, but still accessible to pull out and cock in one swift, continuous motion—that's only if my fingers could comply without fumbling.

Aim between the eyes, baby, and squeeze that fucking trigger. Never be afraid to kill someone.

"Hey." Edward gripped my ankle, and I shot him a startled look.

He was squatted down in front of this black Harley with purple and blue flames, trying to hotwire its engine. Edward kicked out the headlight, and shards of glass surrounded the tire. Several black and red wires were dangling out, and Edward was stripping off the outer sheath with a pocket knife.

"What's wrong?"

"How are things looking up there?"

I glanced back at the large, wood, swinging-style doors. They were still. "We're okay. How much longer?"

"We're about there." His brows furrowed, staring intently at the exposed metallic strands."There's just one thing."

"What's that?"

He slipped the knife into his back pocket. "I need you to trade me places."

It surprised me, and I tilted my head to the side, trying to gauge the expression on his face. "You want me to hotwire this thing?"

He shrugged.

"Oh, I see," I said, placing my hand on the bike seat and popping my collar. "You need my expertise to finish the job. I understand. I am brilliant."

"Not exactly." Edward said, shaking his head. "I just need to be up there when the engine starts..." he paused, smirking up at me, "unless, of course, you want to expand that expertise of yours and drive it."

I snorted; the idea of me driving a Harley was laughable. "Yeah, I don't think we want to die today."

"A blaze of glory, baby." He stood up from his squat, taking a broad step towards me and closing that unfathomable distance between us. "You and me."

The heat that radiated off his body gave me chills.

"As romantic as that is..." I slowly trailed off as he brushed the hair away from my shoulder, exposing my throat.

"Uh huh," he hummed as he grabbed my neck, his fingers splayed, forceful and dominant.

The simple touch set off several chain reactions. It was overwhelming, confusing, and immediate. It permeated through my body and straight down to my core.

"Maybe..." I started again, forcing out a sentence.

"Maybe what?" he echoed with a whisper; hot breath wafted over me. His mouth was just inches away from my right ear.

I couldn't breathe, let alone think. My old man knew what he did to me but pretended he hadn't noticed how my knees buckled or my body slacked in his hold.

The only thing that brought me out of my Edward intoxication was the crow that cawed overhead, reminding me of where we were and what danger awaited us if we didn't get this bike started.

"Maybe," I said again, snapping my eyes open. "You should stop trying to distract me."

He jerked away from the crook of my neck but was mindful to keep his hands securely wrapped around my throat. He glared at me, and those ordinarily sage green irises were now dark and threatening. "I'm distracting?"

I gulped back my attraction and nodded firmly, pulling away from his all-too-consuming grasp and creating some needed distance.

"Huh," he said, genuinely surprised as he stepped aside. "My bad."

"Behave," I warned.

There was an open path to the front of the bike, but he stayed close enough that our bodies would brush each other when I passed. It was the only piece of sanity he was offering me. I took it, knowing full well that the slightest touch would stir that passion from within, throwing me into another tailspin.

"Look, kid," he said, grabbing my arm. I smiled. He fucking couldn't help himself, "when you're hotwiring a bike..."

I groaned, rolling my eyes and wanting to dispute his condescending statement, but he already anticipated my smart-ass comment and pinched my lips closed with his finger and thumb.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you fucking know everything about jacking and shit, but this is somewhat different than hotwiring a car, Bella."

My response was mumbled and intelligible.

He laughed, releasing my lips. "What was that?"

"How is it different?"

"It just is…trust me," His eyes were focused intently on my mouth, and he lazily rolled his thumb over them, leaving a fiery sensation in its wake.

It was tender and erotic and, once again, confounded my thoughts. I was weak under Edward's control as he slowly bent down to kiss me.

I closed my eyes, forgetting everything else, and leaned into him.

A loud and sudden breaking of glass bottles shattered the intimate moment and brought Edward and me back to the present.

"Fuck," he cursed, eyes hectically skimming the bar's entrance. Then, finally, he groaned, pressing his forehead to mine. "See what you do?"

"Me?"

"We don't have fucking time for this shit," Edward ranted softly, keeping his agitated voice down to a whisper. "Look," his fingers roamed upwards into my hair, grabbing fistfuls of it and pulling me close, "as soon as we get it started, you jump on the back of the bike, you got me?"

"Yeah, I got you," I replied, fighting the urge to lick my lips.

That simple action, somewhat innocent, would only distract me further. I wanted Edward and always will. That would never change, but wanting him and having him were two separate things.

Now was not the time to think about Edward and his fingers and where he could touch, kiss, and lick me.

"Hey," Edward snapped his fingers in my face, "try to stay focused."

I swatted his hand away. "I'm focused."

"Right," he scoffed, kicking up the kickstand. "Help me push this towards the road."

I placed my hands on the leather seat and leaned all my body weight into the bike. "You like to torture me on purpose, don't you?"

"Yes," he said, making no apologies and keeping his back to me. "But I'm a masochist and end up torturing myself far more than I'm torturing you.

"I highly doubt that," I said, my feet slipping on the gravel as the Harley rolled down the sloping hill. "Remind me again, how fucking dangerous is this?"

"Well, no alarm usually means..."

"No one is stupid enough to steal it."

He glanced over his shoulder and smirked. "Well, except for us."

We're the only two people stupid enough to steal a Harley from a Hell's Angel.

The appropriate response should have been fear, but it turned me on instead. The danger was an addiction, and Edward was mine.

"Alright, this is good enough," he said, digging the heel of his boots into the ground, bringing it to an abrupt stop.

We were just a few feet from the road, our activities slightly obscured by the hanging branches of an Oak tree, yet still within full view of anyone exiting the bar.

Time was of the essence, and we had to move fast.

"Alright, kid, you're up," Edward said, getting on the bike and balancing it between his legs.

I cracked my knuckles and strolled to the front, giving him a smug smile.

His green eyes were ablaze, and he was getting antsy.

I loved it.

"Can we fucking hurry this along?" He growled and waved me onward, glancing over his shoulder to watch the bar.

"Okay, okay, keep your panties on," I said, crouching down to get eye level with the busted headlight.

"Listen up, kid," Edward spoke fast and urgently."Take both wires and rub them together until you create a spark."

Nodding at his instructions, I rubbed my damp palms on my jeans and zeroed in on my objective.

It seemed simple enough.

As I went to take hold of the wires, Edward threw himself over the front of the bike, reaching out to stop me. "Don't touch the bare wires with your fingers, baby. That shit hurts like a bitch."

The distress behind his eyes was endearing, but no power was streaming through them, and his concern was for naught.

I laughed, shaking my head. "I'm well aware of how electricity works, Edward."

He grunted and flipped me off, leaning back on the bike and disappearing from view. "Just do me a favor and fucking try to be careful, alright?"

"I'll do my best," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

Doing my best to keep Edward's mind at ease, I grabbed the red and black wires at their base, fully sheathed, and gingerly touched them together. At first, there was nothing, but after the sixth time, there was a bright spark.

I yelped, startled, and my fingers dropped the wires as I fell back on my ass.

Edward chuckled. "That's what you get, Billy Badass, for talking shit."

"Shut up!" I snapped, picking myself off the ground and taking hold of those pesky wires with a vengeance.

It took me a second or two to tap and force the wires together to trigger a connection to get the Harley roaring. The engine's deep, long and rumbling sound was loud and booming. It echoed off the trees. My pulse quickened, and my heart pounded, excitement circulating through my blood, causing me to gasp.

I smiled, shooting my gaze up at Edward.

"We gotta go." His eyes were wide and unblinking.

I scrambled to my feet and froze, my gaze darting towards the bar's doors, expecting the owner to come storming out with a shotgun, cocked and ready.

Instinctively, I reached for the Glock sitting low in my back waistband.

"Fuck all that shit, baby! Just get on!" Edward shouted over the rumbling engine, pulling the Harley forward and hitting me in the shin.

He was right.

We were unlikely victors if it came down to a gunfight.

Coming over to the side of the bike, I gripped Edward's broad shoulders with both hands and hoisted myself up, throwing my left leg over the seat. It vibrated underneath me, and I scooted closer to his back, wrapping my arms around his waist.

"Let's go!" I yelled into his ear, burying my face into his neck.

"Hold tight, kid," he said, revving the engine, causing it to roar.

I squeezed his torso, breathing in deeply as he shot out of the parking lot like a bullet. The back tire kicked up rocks and dirt, leaving a billowing dust cloud.

Glancing back at the bar fading in the distance, Edward increased our speed, and the bike propelled forward, flying down Interstate 80. The wind whipped and pounded against my face, causing my unprotected eyes to flutter close.

There was something freeing about being on a motorcycle: power in between my legs, the wind encasing itself all around me, wrapping me in its embrace, and the man who smelled so fucking good, steering the machine. He was the spirit that snuck in and unknowingly burrowed his touch deep inside my psyche. The fire he stirred within me was consuming, and I pressed my breasts into his back.

Maybe it was since the Harley was stolen goods, and being caught by the owner would surely mean death.

Maybe, but deep down, I didn't believe that. It was Edward. It always has been.

That was why I wasn't accountable for my actions when they pertained to him. It was innocent at first, a peck on the neck. He barely flinched. Then it progressed, and I got braver, raising myself and getting better access; the skin was calling to me, begging me to bite it. How could I begrudge myself a little taste?

It wasn't going to hurt him.

"Bella?" he questioned, the wind drowning him out. I pretended not to hear him.

I sucked and nipped at his neck, scooting closer to him and my hands roaming downward. It was a dangerous task to loosen my grip that kept me firmly on the bike but to feel every thick and hardened inch of him was worth the risk.

Edward squirmed as my fingers slipped underneath his jeans. He wasn't stupid and knew what I was up to, but he continued to fly down the highway. I took that as a sign to continue. All I needed was one hand wrapped around him to keep me on the seat, glued to his back, and the other one was fear to wander.

My mouth was kissing his throat, my eyes closed tight, and I inched my hand further down. The ball of his piercing on the tip of his penis was the first thing my eager fingers encountered.

It elicited an agonizing want in me.

Nothing in this world, no trees whipping passed us in a blur or the unrelenting black asphalt that zipped beneath the bike's tires, was going to deter me now.

As I forced my hand down and gripped him, I could hear his cautioning voice begging me to behave, or he would crash the bike.

I smiled, attacking him with vigor, kissing the bottom of his jaw, the scruff poking at my lips.

He kept driving, thrusting us forward, and escalating the danger by increasing the speed.

My hand moved up and down his length, barely lubricated by the pre-cum, but I made it work. Twisting my wrist with each stroke up, I felt his stomach muscles tighten beneath my arm securely wrapped around him. He swerved as the Harley wobbled to stay upright, but I didn't stop. It was reckless and insane, yet it fueled me. I wanted to make him come undone on this motorcycle, and crashing to a fiery death in a fit of ecstasy would be an excellent way to leave this world.

"I am distracting you?" I hummed into his ear, biting down on the lobe and stroking him faster, my thumb rolling over the head of his cock.

"No," he breathed, his head lolling back and resting against my shoulder.

My mind was too consumed with the feel of him beneath my grip that I hadn't noticed when the Harley veered off to the right, going off the road, and headed straight for disaster.

"Edward! Watch out!" I screamed. Pulling my hand out from his pants, I held on to him tightly as he swerved and tried to compensate for that one slip of concentration.

"Fuck!" he cursed, jerking the handlebars to the left, causing the back tire to slide along the gravel. He stuck his leg out like a kickstand, keeping the motorcycle upright as it spun and spun.

The rocks pelted my bare legs, and I brought them up, away from the assault, as I buried my face in Edward's shoulder. My fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, making tight fists, squeezing his body to mine, not wanting to let him go, no matter the outcome.

The motorcycle came to an abrupt stop, jolting me forward. I kept my eyes closed, silently willing my heart to slow down. It was painful, and I felt like it was going to burst out of my chest. My hands shook as I unclenched my fists, pulling my face away from Edward's back.

Gasping and taking in large quantities of air, I looked around and saw that we were in a dirt-covered parking lot of a quaint diner. The Harley was still standing erect on two tires, humming and vibrating.

Edward turned to face me and spat. "Are you out of your fucking mind? You could've killed us just now? Do you have any idea?"

He clenched that perfect jaw as he grabbed my hips and dug his fingers into the denim of my shorts. I wanted so badly to apologize to him, but I wasn't sorry. God knows that I would do it again in a fucking heartbeat.

It was a hostile standoff, and we stared for a long time, both of our gazes unwavering.

Then it happened, I don't know who cracked first, but we laughed uncontrollably, quickly turning into lust.

I sat up and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling myself onto his lap. He grabbed me by the back of the neck, yanking my head down and crashing his lips to mine. We attacked and clawed at each other, kissing roughly and chaotically, needing more.

"Holy shit, woman," Edward said, panting heavily against my mouth, barely pulling away. "You're fucking..."

"Crazy?"

"No," he said, kissing my

lips slowly and briefly. He sighed. "You're amazing."

I smiled, feeling my face heat up. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," he replied, matching my smile as he leaned in to kiss me. It was deeper this time, with no rush and no tongue. He killed me with the nibbling on my bottom lip, gently grazing me with his teeth.

"Hey!" a woman shouted. Edward and I broke apart, gazing over at the waitress. She wore a yellow dress with a white collar and an apron. Her hands were over her eyes to block the incoming sun, squinting to get a better look at us. "Are you kids alright?"

"Yeah, we're fine," Edward yelled, his eyes flitting from the waitress, who'd decided to go inside and back over at me. He nodded his head towards the diner. "So…"

"So…what?"

"So, are you hungry, kid?"

(0)(0)(0)

Edward sat across from me in the diner; the waitress had just set down our drinks, giving us a couple more minutes to review the menu. It was slow in the restaurant, and a few people were seated at the bar. The near crash of the motorcycle was still the topic of conversation. Some even commented on how impressed they were with Edward and how quickly he could pull out of the tailspin, quickly righting the Harley straight and getting it to stop.

He was gracious—to a point—but I could see his patience wearing thin. Eventually, they got the hint and scampered off.

We were left alone again, which wasn't for the best.

"What are you doing?" Edward asked, narrowing his eyes at me.

"Nothing." I said, putting the menu in front of my face and hiding away from his stare.

On the other hand, my foot was being naughty, nudging and stroking Edward with my toe under the table. He shifted several times, trying to combat his arousal, but I was relentless. My pent-up sexual frustration had reached its peak, and I was about to fucking combust.

"Bullshit," he grunted, snatching the menu from my hands and setting it down on the table. Then, looking around the diner, he casually reached down and grabbed my foot, squeezing it. "Don't tempt me, woman. I'll fuck you right here."

I bit my lip as the image of Edward pounding into me on top of this table, hard and fast, crossed my mind.

"What do I have to do to make that happen?" I asked, wiggling my foot out of his grasp and rubbing his cock again.

He was hard…

Closing his eyes, he groaned softly and slumped further down in the booth. "Just keep fucking doing what you're doing."

I glanced around the diner, spotting our waitress talking to another table across the room. And fortunately, she was busy, and her attention was elsewhere. I scanned the bar to my left, and the seats were unoccupied. Most of the patrons were on the restaurant's west side, and our booth was off in the corner in the east, practically alone.

I made a snap decision.

Edward's eyes were still closed, utterly unaware of the inner workings of my mind; I slid down my seat and fell to my knees underneath the table.

The floor was clean, and I ducked my head, keeping it low as I crawled over to Edward and situated myself between his legs. My fingers were on the zipper of his jeans, yanking at them when he jerked away from me, startled.

I peered up, meeting his wide eyes through the small gap between him and the table.

"What the fuck are you doing?" he whispered, panicked, his hands covering mine and stilling my movements.

"I want you in my mouth."

"Jesus," he hissed, clenching his jaw.

He wanted to fight me, but his will was weakening. It was easy to bat away his hands and unzip the fly of his jeans. I reached in and pulled him out, the tip glistening with moisture, and I licked my lips in anticipation. Rising to my knees, I bent my head down and took as much of him as I could, but never able to fully sheath him with my mouth. The skin on his cock was soft against my tongue, and I rolled it around, the piercing pressing on the roof of my mouth. Gripping the thick shaft, I moved my head, sucking and licking.

Edward reached down, entangling his fingers in my hair, and bucked his hips up, moving with me, and hitting the back of my throat. I pulled away, taking in a couple of breaths before starting up again.

"Shit," he cursed, shifting in his seat and yanking his hand away from my head.

"Hey, there, you all set? Where did that cute little girl go?" the waitress asked.

Little girl…I thought bitterly, bobbing faster and sucking harder on my boyfriend's cock.

"She went to the bathroom," Edward replied, his tone even with a slight edge. "I think we're—" He stopped as I took my tongue and licked him from the base to head, taking the stud of the piercing between my teeth and tugging at it. He cleared his throat. "I don't know what she wants. You might want to come back."

"Alright then, just wave me over when you've decided," she said, suspicion in her voice. I heard the heels of her shoes clacking against the linoleum as she walked away.

Edward reached down and grabbed the sides of my face. "Go to the bathroom."

"What? Why? She didn't see me. Relax," I said, shaking my head free and wrapping my mouth around him again.

He groaned with frustration, pulling away from me and stuffing his dick back into his pants. "Go to the fucking bathroom, Bella." I sat back on my heels and pouted. He nudged me gently with his foot. "Do it now, before she comes back."

"Fine!" I huffed, crawling to the side of the table and poking my head out. The coast was clear.

I rose to my feet and glared over at Edward. He wasn't looking at me but was waving his hand dismissively.

Flustered and horny, I walked to the bathroom a few feet away from our booth in the corner.

There were three stalls with two large sinks. The floor was a black and yellowed checkered tile and freshly mopped. The bathroom was clean and smelled like Pine-Sol.

Placing my hands on the side of the sink, I stared at my reflection. It was the same as this morning: hair messy and my face ghostly pale.

Although, I did have a mischievous sparkle in my eyes.

I sighed, hanging my head, and thought: How long did he want me to stay here? Two minutes? Five minutes?

It was all a pointless charade, and I was grumpy.

I had no idea when Edward and I would have a chance to be together. Rockford was an hour away, and when we got there, people would surround us all hours of the day. The spontaneous morning sex in the bed with our friends sleeping nearby was a one-time deal.

Okay, maybe not, considering I just dropped to my knees and gave him head in a restaurant full of people.

I had no shame.

57, 58, 59, 60.

It had been a full minute, and I was ready to leave. Turning on the sink to wash my hands, I heard the door open behind me. Not bothering to glance up, I grabbed some paper towels to dry off my hands. It was when I listened to the door's distinct locking that my head snapped up.

Edward was behind me, running his hands through his hair.

"Remember, you fucking asked for this."

"What?" I spun around to face him, and he was already upon me, lifting me on the sink, forcing my knees apart, and standing between my legs.

He kissed me, his hot mouth urgent and everywhere: on my neck, my collarbone, my breasts, my stomach, slowly inching his way downward. The pads of his fingertips were pressed against my pussy, rubbing my arousal through the shorts.

My thoughts were chaotic, overwhelmed with his rough touch and smooth lips.

"Get down," he ordered, pulling away from my aching lips and stepping back.

Slowly lowering myself to my feet, he grabbed me by the hips and turned me around. He removed my gun and sat it down with the Colt on the side counter.

"Hold on to the sink," he said, our gazes meeting in the mirror's reflection, his face severe and menacing.

I nodded, gripping the edge of the white porcelain.

He reached around me, unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down my legs. The cool breeze from the overhead AC vent caused my bare skin to pucker. Two large hands were on my ass, squeezing and kneading it, causing me to close my eyes. Then out of nowhere, he was biting and sucking at the flesh, marking me with his mouth.

"Shit," I moaned, squeezing the edge of the sink until my knuckles turned white.

Edward pulled away and smacked me with his hand.

It stung, and I cringed. The pain of the slap reverberated, and I pushed my ass into him, begging for more.

He chuckled, smoothing his hand over the curve of my backside. "Do you want me to fuck you? Is that what you want?"

I nodded, bending over the sink and widening my stance.

"That's my girl." He grabbed the string on my panties, fisted the fabric in his, and yanked it off to the side. Pulling and tugging at it until the elastic broke, ripping them right off me.

I watched him in the mirror, wearing a devilish grin as he pocketed my destroyed panties.

Sexy prick! What is he trying to do to me?

"Mine," he murmured, slipping his hand between my legs. He groaned loudly, dropping his forehead to my back as he continued to rub my swollen lips. "Jesus, baby...so wet."

There was a roar within him, and he removed his fingers from my aching sex. I whimpered from the loss, pushing my ass into him, seeking more of his touch, and he responded by spanking me.

"Needy kitty," he said, unbuttoning his jeans and letting them drop to the floor. There was a condom in his hand, and he tore it open with his teeth.

It wasn't long before he was pushing into me. He was gentle and slow, taking it easy and giving me time to adjust to his size. My inner muscle squeezed and tightened around him like a vice.

"Hold on," he said, his hand moving up my back and into my hair, grabbing a fistful.

I bit my bottom lip, locking my elbows and steadying myself. Edward rocked his hips, hitting deep inside, slamming in and out of me with force. My hands were slipping on the smooth surface of the sink. I was losing my grasp. Edward bent down and kissed my neck as he fucked me harder.

My deep, throaty moans echoed off the walls straight to Edward's ears. He pulled out, reaching down and rubbing the head of his cock along my sensitive slit, teasing every nerve ending.

He rammed back into me, stern and forceful. I cried out in pleasure, my knees slowly buckling beneath me.

"Look at me," Edward said, pulling my hair and yanking my head up. "I wanna see you."

We gazed at each other through the mirror, each thrust of his hips pushing me forward, and he slid in and out deeper than before. Again, I felt that familiar stir of a tingling sensation. It pulsated and throbbed.

I wanted to kiss him so badly.

"That's right, baby," he said, reaching around, rubbing, and pinching my clit. "Come for me."

Turning my head as much as I could, I found his lips. He kissed me, his tongue pressing forcefully against mine.

He tasted good.

He felt good.

Edward broke away and gripped my hips. He drove into me, deep, fast, and painfully. The sting of his nails digging into my skin served as an intensifier, magnifying my pleasure.

I whimpered and came quickly.

Edward smirked, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he pumped and thrust deeper into me, seeking his release.

I watched with fascination as his face contorted with sensual gratification as he came: eyes shut tight, lips pursed, and brow furrowed in concentration.

Grunting loudly and resting his head on my shoulder, his cock jerked and twitched inside me. His thrusting slowed, eventually coming to a standstill. Nevertheless, he stayed deeply penetrated, fully sheathed by me.

I smiled, reaching up and running my fingers through his hair. "I love you."

He kept his head down and wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me close. "So much."

"Um, baby," I said, shifting under his body weight. "I think we should go."

"Don't move. Just give me a minute." He kissed my shoulder. "I want to enjoy this moment for a little bit longer."

"Okay."

He held me, breathing slowly and deeply, occasionally kissing my skin.

If he were willing, I would let him hold me forever, but someone was bound to want to use the public restroom in a crowded diner with free refills flowing. I knew our nestling time was coming to an end.

"Hello," a timid voice came through the door, accompanied by a light tapping.

"Well, fuck," Edward groaned, pulling out of me. He smacked my ass and winked, gesturing towards the door.

I was left to get rid of the unknown patron as Edward shuffled towards a stall.

"Someone's in here!" I shouted.

"Oh, okay," the voice replied, sad and muffled.

I'm not sure if they walked away, but I doubted it. It would make exiting the female bathroom, with Edward hot on my heels, somewhat awkward. The last thing we needed was someone giving us the third degree.

Unless...

"Hey, stay in here and try to sneak out in a couple of minutes," I said, pulling up my shorts and buttoning them. It felt weird without my panties, but they were in a better place.

"Sounds good," he said from behind the orange-colored stall. "If the waitress is there to take our order, all I want is a cheeseburger."

I chuckled, fixing my shirt and smoothing down my hair. "I'll let her know."

Unlocking the door, I pulled it open and saw a short, older woman waiting against the wall. She smiled politely at me but seemed annoyed, especially when she'd seen more than one bathroom stall. She didn't question me and hobbled her walker forward, rolling over my foot with the wheel.

Smiling to myself and the fun Edward was about to encounter with that one, I strolled back to our table with extra pep to my step. It was amazing how much my mood changed. I felt much more relaxed and happy—a far cry from when I first stomped my way to the bathroom.

Unfortunately, like most things concerning Edward and me, that feeling was short-lived.

Caius was here, sitting causally in our booth. I stood like a statue, unsure of what to do, and my eyes searched the diner for Charlotte and Peter. They were outside, leaning against this old-piece-of-shit-looking Ford Escort. There wasn't an ounce of worry on their faces.

I reached into my back waistband for my gun, but it wasn't there. Instead, it was on the bathroom counter.

My gut told me to turn around and avoid that man altogether, but it was too late for all that. Caius had already spotted me, smiling easily and waving me over with his hand.

"Isabella," Caius called, rolling a butter knife between his fingers. "Come sit down, Bonita."

"Sure," I said, sitting down at the table, keeping as much distance between us as humanly possible.

There wasn't much Caius could do to me being in a crowded restaurant and Edward five feet away. He would be crazy even to attempt it. Things were uncomfortable, the air was thick with tension, and I was nauseous. Being this close to this vile man was causing a visceral reaction, but I wasn't in immediate danger.

At least, I didn't think I was.

Caius smiled, glancing towards the bathroom. "You guys are insatiable, no?"

I shrugged indifferently, trying to convey that the very thought of him spying on us wasn't grossing me out.

"You are very young and virginal," he said, setting down the knife and inclining his body towards me. "You're just ripe enough for the picking."

Countering his movements, I glared and leaned away. "What does that even mean?"

Caius' eyes roamed over my face and chest. "Edward is no idiot. No, he knew exactly what he had when he saw you." He reached out and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. It was rough and dry, irritating to my skin. "But what is his will soon be mine."

I jerked away, hurrying out of the booth. "Don't fucking touch me."

Caius scowled, grabbing my arm and keeping me seated. "You've got a smart mouth for such a little girl." He spoke through gritted teeth. "I didn't fucking excuse you."

The man was openly threatening me.

"Are you insane?" I asked, grimacing under his tight and painful grip. "He'll kill you."

He laughed. "Oh, mi amor, he can't kill me. Marcus would never allow it. Edward knows that if he kills me, it will be like committing suicide. He'd be dead."

I shook my head. The very thought of him ceasing to exist was unimaginable to me.

"Oh, Caius." Edward sighed, emerging from nowhere and towering over the table. He placed his hand on Caius' shoulder, squeezing the tendon and causing him to wince under the distress. "You severely underestimate me."