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 Forty-

"Yes, I see," Caius answered, his fingers digging into my skin as the grip on my arm continued to get tighter. He narrowed his black eyes at me. "I've severely underestimated how blinded and foolish you've become."

I returned his hateful glare, jerking and pulling away from him. He was too close for my liking. I could smell the rotten stench of his breath every time he talked. It made my stomach turn.

Edward groaned, realizing that Caius wasn't going to play nice, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with frustration. "I believe that I've been very patient with you, and I won't ask you again," He snapped his head up and squeezed the muscle in Caius' neck, "but get your fucking hands off my girl."

Biting my lip, I squirmed in my seat as this hot and intense arousal for my tattooed, gun-toting, badass boyfriend engulfed me, making my mind go blank with need, forgetting about the man across the table and the threat he posed.

Everything faded away and reduced down to one thing: Edward, and he had no idea.

Caius scoffed. "You're willing to risk your life for this…" he paused, his gaze falling away from Edward and settling on me, looking as though my mere existence was insignificant, "this girl?"

"Yes," he replied without thought, almost like a reflex. I shot my head up to find him looking down at me with a pained smile. He shrugged. "What's a fucking life if she's not in it?"

My breath caught, and my heart skipped a fucking beat or two, staring at his green eyes and seeing the truth behind them. Death was nothing when the thought of living without the person was much worse. Then, unable to handle the distance any longer, needing to be wrapped up in his love, I slid across the seat to get up.

"Sit down, puta!" Caius reached across the table and grabbed my arm, jerking me backward into the booth and causing my head to bang against the adjacent wall.

My vision went white.

"You motherfucker!" I heard Edward snap.

Slowly the white dissipated, and I could focus on the fast-paced chaos as it exploded like an atomic bomb. Edward launched his attack upon Caius' face, punching him in the jaw and sending him sideways into the seat. He reached down and grabbed Caius by the neck, pulling him up and slamming his forehead into the wooden table. It wobbled under the continuous pounding, tipping the salt and pepper shakers over and rattling the window.

My heart pumped with adrenaline, hammering relentlessly in my ears as I watched it all play out in front of me like a movie.

"Don't you ever fucking call her that," Edward growled through his clenched teeth, taking Caius by the collar of his shirt and yanking him to his feet. "Do you fucking understand me?"

He laughed, spitting the blood oozing from his mouth onto the ground. "You're fucking dead."

"No, you're dead, you arrogant fuck!" Edward punched him in the stomach.

He hunched over in pain, sputtering and gasping for air, managing only to get out a word or two.

I caught a glimpse of our poor waitress as she stood frozen behind the counter with a tray of our drinks in her hand, wide-eyed and unsure whether or not she should intervene. I shook my head at her, urging her to stay away.

"Stupid fucking piece of shit," Edward grunted and grabbed Caius by the throat, heaving him back up and keeping him still and complacent. "Why couldn't you just go to fucking Rockford like we discussed, huh? You just had to come here and play gangster, didn't you?"

Reaching down, he removed a gold-plated, long-barrel revolver from Caius' waistband. He set it down on the table and slid it over to me. I quickly grabbed it and concealed it in the front of my jeans, barely covering the handle with my shirt.

"Are you okay?" he asked, glancing over at me as I stood up. Once wild with fury, his eyes had softened considerably and roamed over my face and body, inspecting me for injury. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, not really... I'm just a little sore, you know?" I admitted, raising my arm to inspect the damage.

The red fingerprints were already turning into a dark purple, a telltale sign of a deep bruise.

It looked worse than it felt, but Edward reacted on sight, and the all too consuming wrath erupted within him. Blinded by pure rage, he pulled out his Colt and cocked it.

"That's strike three, fucker. Your times up," Edward said, pressing the muzzle against Caius' mouth.

I'd seen that look in his eyes before, but never this strongly. He was going to shoot him. I watched his finger slowly squeeze down on the trigger.

We'd already managed to attract some curious onlookers with all the commotion. There was no way to get out of this diner after openly murdering a man. Blood would be everywhere.

"Edward," I said gently, placing my hand on his back. He looked down at me, and I nodded toward our captivated audience. "Not here, baby."

Following my gaze, he noticed all the wannabe cowboys and hicks coming to our aid, but he took this as an aggressive gesture and turned the gun on them. "Back the fuck up! You don't want to get involved in this, alright?"

"Now just settle down there, young man," an older man said, approaching cautiously with his hands raised.

"Are you fucking deaf? I said back the fuck up!"

The man stopped, heeding Edward's warning. "We don't want any trouble."

There were ten to fifteen people in the diner, primarily men. There was a slim chance that they were carrying weapons on them, and I didn't think we had enough bullets to win if there was a sudden shootout.

I needed to de-escalate the situation.

"There's no trouble," I said, taking a couple of twenties out of my pocket and throwing them on the table. "We were just leaving." I tugged on Edward's belt loop. "Weren't we, baby?"

Edward nodded and lowered his gun. "Yeah, that's right." He then turned the Colt back on Caius, jabbing him in the ribs and nudging him forward. "Start walking, fucker."

Slowly, one by one, all the men sat down and observed as we passed. I kept my fingers securely hooked into the loop of Edward's jeans, staying in step with his long legs and broad stride.

The air was tense as we walked down the aisle towards the door. The diner bustling with noise less than a second ago hushed into an uncomfortable silence. Yet, if a single drop of water fell to the kitchen's tile floor, I would hear it.

It was stifling.

"Once I've killed you, Cabrón," Caius spoke low, "I'm gonna take that puta of yours and put my mouth all over her delicious and tight pus—" He was cut off mid-sentence by a sudden and brisk impact of his face slamming up against the window.

Edward grabbed him by the neck and smashed into the door, causing it to swing open and creating a spider crack in the glass and a gash on Caius' forehead.

"I'm sorry, puta, you were saying?" Edward asked.

Caius moaned in response, tripping over his feet, disoriented from the massive blow to the skull.

"Stupid piece of shit," Edward grumbled, reaching for me as I stood close behind him. He slid his hand along my body and took a fistful of my shirt, forcing me to his back. "Did you honestly fucking think that you could disrespect my girl and that I wouldn't do anything about it?"

Caius answered with a slew of profanities in Spanish, spitting and thrashing around. The blood was gushing out in spurts, staining the concrete a bright red.

Peter pushed himself off the side of the car and jogged up to assist Edward in dragging a limp Caius across the parking lot. "Is it that time?"

"Not here," Edward said, forcing the brunt of all of Caius' dead weight into Peter's arms. He turned to me and drew me into a tight hug. He kissed me on the top of my head and pulled away, gently ushering me toward the car. "Get in, kid."

Taking one last glance at the diner, I saw multiple sets of eyes peering out from the inside. They watched as we left with their faces pressed up and mashed against the glass.

The word about our little visit was going to travel fast and wide.

We all piled into the tiny Ford Escort, Charlotte and Peter in front, Edward, me, and Caius in the backseat. The stolen Harley was left behind and parked at the south side of the diner, hidden by two to three bushes.

"What's the plan, Edward?" Peter asked, easing into the road and slowly gaining speed on the open highway but never going above sixty.

"I'm initiating my Plan B," he answered, pressing the Colt to Caius' temple with one hand and holding on to mine with the other.

Caius didn't say shit. Peter and Charlotte gagged with a rolled sock and electrical tape and bound his hands behind the back. The cut on his forehead stopped bleeding and was now a mangled clot of red, crusted blood. It was disgusting to look at, and I distracted myself by going through his phone and reading the messages. There were twenty in total. All of them were from his brother, and all were in Spanish.

I should've paid more attention to La Señora Vásquez and that stupid worksheet she handed out.

"Plan B?" Peter questioned, locking eyes with Edward through the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, I need to figure out another way to get into the senator's mansion." He gave me a sideways glance and flashed his trademark grin, crooked and sly. "I'm about to kill off my connection."

"I thought you were only a 'Plan A' type of guy," I teased.

"Normally, under different circumstances, this would be true, but someone has proven themselves to be unable to work well with others, and they must be dealt with accordingly," he said, gesturing towards our hostage.

I smiled, gripping his thigh and using it as leverage; I slid closer to him in the seat until I was practically on his lap. The brass and hard-ass bravado was sexy and combined with his good looks. It was impossible to resist.

"Bella," he said through soft chuckles, shaking his head. "This is not the fucking time."

"I'm not doing anything," I whispered back, highly offended by his insinuation.

He removed my wandering hand from his leg and brought it up to his lips. "Later."

The promise sealed with a kiss made matters worse. I'm not sure what Edward's intent was, but it only intensified the fire inside instead of appeasing it.

"How much later are we talking?" I asked.

"Sometime after blowing off this fucker's head and meeting back up with you in Rockford…" he gazed over my body briefly, focusing on my chest for longer than needed, and then back up to my eyes. "But of course, it doesn't take much to persuade me."

I'd been so hypnotized by his lips and the way he occasionally would suck the ring into his mouth, his teeth grazing the silver hoop, that I'd nearly missed the part where he said he would meet me in Rockford.

"Turn off on this road, Peter," Edward instructed, leaning forward in his seat.

"I'm coming with you, right?" I asked.

He ignored me, fixing his eyes straight ahead and out of the front windshield. "You can drop me off behind the tree line."

"Edward," I said, trying to get his attention, but it was no use. He was purposely distracted.

"Right here is perfect," he said, tapping the headrest of Peter's seat.

"Do you want us to wait for you?" Charlotte asked as the car came to a stop.

"Nope, I can find my way back to Rockford. You know me," he smirked, opening the door and pushing Caius out, "I'm a resourceful motherfucker."

"Here, take this, oh, resourceful one," Peter said, pulling out a shotgun and handing it to Edward.

His eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas. "This might be fun."

"It causes some massive damage if used at point range," Peter said, turning around in his seat and smiling at me. "You can't miss."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "I thought you were a pacifist."

He laughed, glancing over at Charlotte. "Yeah, we are, but…."

"But we still enjoy a thrill kill from time to time," Charlotte finished, placing her hand on Peter's cheek and smiling at him adoringly.

My definition might be a tad different than theirs, but basically, from what I'd understood from thrill killing was that they killed for the fun of it. Although admittedly, they didn't seem like the type, with their crystal blue eyes, pale blonde hair, and angelic features, it would be deceiving to anyone who crossed them, but maybe that was the point.

At that moment, I realized why they'd always seemed so weird and out of place, but I could never put my finger on it. They were the evolved version of Edward and me. What we would be in five to ten years. The only difference was that we hadn't killed together and felt that thrill pulse through our veins, uniting us.

"Bella," Edward called, drawing my attention from our future and refocusing my gaze on the present. I smiled at him, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him close. He didn't resist when my lips touched his, gentle and sweet at first, but soon turned deep, full of wanting and need. Finally, he groaned, grasping my arms and dragging his mouth across the corner of my jaw, nipping at the skin. "Hmm, persuasive as always, I see."

"You know how this is going to turn out, Edward," I said, jerking away from him and narrowing my eyes. "I'm not going with them."

"Yes, you are, baby," he said, brushing the hair from my face. He looked so conflicted, brows furrowed and lips pursed. He was fighting a losing battle. "I'll meet you in Rockford. We'll go to dinner. Anywhere you want to go, kid."

"I want to go with you," I said sternly, pushing against his chest and getting out of the car.

"Bella!" Edward shouted after me. "God damn it!" He hit the car's roof with his hand, glaring as I circled the back and approached him. He shook his head. "Woman, why can't you just do what I ask?"

"Why must you insist on shielding me from things?" I countered, stopping short as my feet hit the back of Caius' head. He was lying on the ground with his face in the dirt.

"Because you don't need to see..." he glanced away and stared into the distance.

"See what?" I asked, stepping over Caius and placing my hands on Edward's face, forcing him to look at me. "What is it? Tell me."

He sighed, his eyes still failing to meet mine. "I don't want you to see the demon that lives in me."

There it was. No matter what we've done together, Edward would always see me as this doe-eyed deer with a misleading mask of innocence that he can't get past to see the real me.

"I'm very friendly with that demon," I said, stepping up on my tippy toes to get leveled with him, searching those deep and brooding eyes. "Look at me." He did with reluctance, and I smirked, tapping his nose playfully. "We do this together or not at all, you understand?"

"Yes," he answered, resting his forehead against mine.

Caius was squirming under our feet like a worm, trying to wiggle his way to safety. It brought the task back at hand.

"Where do you think you're going, you little shit," Edward asked the man whose minutes were limited. After a kick to his stomach, he instinctively curled up into the fetal position. He groaned loudly in pain.

Peter leaned out the window and whistled. "Are we good?"

"Yeah," Edward replied, waving him off. "Me and my girl got it from here. We'll see you later tonight."

"Sure enough," Peter said, nodding his head at me, drumming the side of the door with his hand. "We'll set up camp and text you the directions."

Charlotte poked her head out of her side of the car and smiled. "God speed, Edward and Bella."

"God speed," Edward and I replied.

The language they used was different, but I was digging it. It was a contradiction to the murderers and thieves who lied within. They were the devil with the horns that held up their halo.

Waving goodbye to our good friends, we waited until their car was out of sight before turning our attention back to Caius. The field we were in was a reasonable distance from the road, concealed by golden wheat swaying in the breeze. It was a poetic setting and far too good for a man like Caius to die in, but letting him live wasn't a viable option.

It boiled down to survival: ours.

"Here, kid, hold this," Edward said, handing me the shotgun and yanking Caius up on his knees.

The tape was peeling at the corners of his mouth as he talked. There was a strain on his face and sweat dripping from his forehead. We watched him struggle for a few minutes, thoroughly entertained by his efforts.

"I'm sorry, I can't fucking take it anymore." Edward laughed as he peeled off the tape and pulled rolled sock out of his mouth. "You have something you wanna share before my girl blows your fucking head off?"

Edward wanted me to kill him?

The weight of the shotgun suddenly felt like a thousand pounds, the implications of what I was about to do dawning on me.

Caius cursed in Spanish.

"What did he say?" I asked.

"He called me a fucking white asshole," Edward answered with a shrug. "I've been called worse."

"Go ahead and you kill me, pendejo," Caius spat.

"Oh, we fully plan to, don't you worry," Edward said.

"But you know that when you kill me, you're killing yourself and everyone you love. Marcus will come for you. No matter where you go, you'll be hunted down and shot like a filthy dog. Your life and your girl's life will be over." He snapped his fingers. "Like that."

He was confident in his words, smug even, which struck me with immense fear. Suddenly, it wasn't about getting rid of some annoyance, someone who was bothersome; it was about my world, my life, the very existence of what he was threatening. Edward was everything: the thoughts in my brain, the air in my lungs, and the blood coursing through my veins.

If he died, I died.

It was as simple as that.

"Then he kills us," Edward said, reaching down and pulling me close. "Those threats mean absolutely nothing to me. They won't save your miserable life. The only thing that was keeping you breathing was your way into the senator's mansion…but you couldn't keep you're fucking hands to yourself. So, here we are."

Caius scoffed. "Yes, here we are."

The sudden vibration of the phone startled me. The gun slipped from my hand and fell towards the ground. Edward's quick reflexes caught it in mid-air. He laughed, rubbing my back comfortingly as I pulled the cell out of my pocket. It was Caius' iPhone, and on the front screen flashing in neon blue was the name 'Marcus.'

"Oh, fuck," I said, showing the face to Edward. "What do we do?"

"We answer it," he said, taking it from my hand and pressing it to his ear. "Hola, this is Caius' phone, how may we help you?"

"You and you're boyfriend are dead, Bonita," Caius cackled.

I just hoped that death greeted me first. One second without Edward would feel like a lifetime of unendurable pain. But, yes, death was the better option.

Shaking my head and dispelling those morbid thoughts, I turned my attention back to Edward as he chatted away with our soon-to-be killer like they were old friends.

"Yes, currently, we're in Iowa. We didn't quite make it to Chicago…oh, no, I fully intend on killing him…Yeah, he's still able to talk." He swung around to Caius and smiled. "Your brother wants to talk to you."

He nodded smugly as Edward walked over and held the phone to his ear. "Hello, brother. Do you know what he fucking did to me? Pinche puta…" He paused as he listened, and slowly his arrogant face turned pale. He gulped. "Didyme?"

I watched as the world came crashing down on him. The next thing I knew, he was pleading with his brother in Spanish, terror overcoming his once rough and fearless features.

"No, no, Marcus, I didn't know..." Caius cried.

I heard the distinct click on the phone's earpiece as the line went dead. Caius's eyes went wide with delirium as his only leverage quickly vanished.

"It seems like you overestimated your brother's loyalty to you," Edward said, cracking the phone in two and throwing the pieces far into the trees.

"Marcus hired you to kill me." It wasn't a question.

I shot my eyes at Edward, waiting for him to deny it.

He never did.

"You have a really bad habit of touching things that aren't yours, don't you?" he said, crouching down to Caius' level.

"I didn't know Didyme belonged to Marcus."

"Bullshit!"

Caius snapped his head up. "I didn't know until afterwards—"

"You raped the woman he loves, and you think he's going to let you off on a measly excuse like that? I didn't know? Don't embarrass yourself," Edward said, rising to his feet.

"But...but...he told me..."

"But, but, but, he told you what? That it didn't matter? That you could just fucking touch and taint whatever you wanted? Well, he lied."

"So what? He sent me here to die then?" Caius asked.

"In a way, yes, but mainly he sent you here because I needed a favor."

"A favor?"

"Marcus is a busy man and was unavailable to help me out, so he sent you instead—his worthless fucking brother. And as thank for his generosity, I offered to put a bullet into your fucking skull."

"Why didn't he do it himself, huh? Coward!" Caius snorted, anger now taking the place of fear.

"He doesn't ever want to see your fucking face again. That's why." Edward laughed. "Are you really that ignorant? Did you really not fucking know?"

My mind was swirling as this world that Edward created, so intricate and entwined with murder, was slowly being revealed to me. But, once again, he purposely kept me out to hide that pesky little devil.

"So, this…" Caius waved, gesturing around the empty wheat field, "was a set-up? You've planned to kill me all along?"

"Yes. It was business and nothing personal. I was just taking out Marcus' trash." He put the shotgun back into my hands. "Now that we're up to date, is there any last minute grievances you would like to air, or sins you would like to confess?"

"Fuck you!" Caius answered.

"Alright then, good talk," Edward said, clapping his hands and facing me, cocking his eyebrow. "How are you feeling?"

"Well, other than finding out that you've been lying to me," I replied, hiking the gun up and trying to get comfortable with its odd dimensions.

"I didn't lie; I just withheld certain information from you."

I rolled my eyes. "Same difference."

He pushed the gun barrel to the side and settled his body in front of me, my face coming in contact with his chest. He smelled so good. I turned away, trying to maintain my anger, as he gripped my hips and pulled me flush against him.

He surrounded me as he buried his nose in my hair, murmuring. "I won't do it again."

"You promise?" My voice got lost in the fabric of his shirt, but he was constantly aware and deeply attuned to me. He heard every syllable.

"I can't hide the truth from you. You're the angel that dwells inside me now."

"Que chingados," Caius groaned. "Fucking kill me already!"

"Fuck off, asshole. I'm having a moment with my girl," Edward growled, his mouth lowering to mine.

The intensity and duration of his kisses were different each time, some soft and gentle and others forceful and deep, but they always made me weak in the knees.

I felt the gun slowly slipping away as gravity took charge.

Edward pulled away from me and quickly placed his hand over mine. He wrapped his fingers around my own, intertwining them and keeping the shotgun securely within our grasp.

"We're not going to make it to Rockford, are we?" I asked, licking my lips, still feeling the lingering effects of his kisses.

"We'll be lucky if we make it out of this fucking field," Edward said, taking a step back. He glanced down at the gun. "You ready?"

"I've never killed before." I croaked as a large lump festered in the back of my throat.

"There's nothing to it, baby. It's like all those bull's-eyes we've shot millions of times in the desert."

I laughed nervously. "Yeah, that's so not the same the thing."

"It is always hard the first time you do it. If you weren't nervous, I'd be a little worried," Edward said, moving to stand behind me. "Now, lift it, keeping your arms strong, and point it at your target."

Raising the gun, I aimed it at Caius as he mouthed a prayer. My heart thumped against my chest, and my hands shook with nerves. There was sweat rolling down my forehead, and I tried to maintain my courage.

"All you gotta do now is shoot the fucker."

I hesitated, squinting against the bright shine of the overhead sun, and my finger hovered over the trigger.

"Breathe in and out, baby. Keep it deep and slow," Edward whispered. "Take your time. There's no rush."

The warmth of his body pressed against mine was soothing. It eased my anxiety and kept me focused.

"He's not human, Bella, alright? He's a worthless piece of shit. He's a rapist. Men like him don't deserve to live. Don't be afraid to kill him."

"I'm not," I said, taking a deep breath. "Just…just don't let go of me."

"I'll never let go of you," he said, trailing those seductive kisses along my neck.

I closed my eyes and pulled the trigger.