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-Two-

In the beginning, it was all about boosting cars and evading the law, but our activities escalated to murder, bringing things to a new level. The funny thing about the extreme was that Edward didn't think it was that different from stealing a car or robbing a convenience store. The act of disposing of a body was like anything else, all mechanics, and it boiled down to one thing: rules—his rules.

He had it down to an exact science, consisting of crucial factors.

The first order of business was to remove all personal possessions and identification from the deceased. It would be taken and sold later at some two-bit pawn shop if anything was deemed valuable.

"Easy money," Edward told me with a wicked grin.

It made me laugh how caviler he was about it, and I hung on to every word he said—not necessarily listening to what he was saying. Instead, I was more interested in his lips and how they moved.

"After we're all done here, we'll set the body on fire."

I snapped my head up in surprise. "What? Say that again?"

"What? Why is that so shocking?"

We were both crouched over Caius, removing his belongings. My job was to empty his pockets, and Edward was taking off the gold rings and expensive Rolex.

"Well, a fire can attract a lot of attention, don't you think? Wouldn't it be safer just to bury him?"

Edward dropped Caius' wrist and gave me an annoyed look. "Do you have shovel hidden up your ass, because I don't."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "Don't be an asshole."

"Fine, I won't, but don't try to deviate from the plan. We burn the fucker, Bella, and that's it."

"Whatever, Edward," I said, rolling my eyes and glancing away. "I was just asking."

"Look, baby," he started in a much softer tone that was not on the defensive. "Even if we had a shovel, I wouldn't bury him. It's a lot of work and a heinous mess for someone to clean up. It's best for everyone if we leave the asshole as a pile of ashes instead of some decaying, foul-smelling corpse."

In his twisted and conscientious mind, he believed that we were doing the police a favor.

He forgot to consider how hard it would be to identify a pile of ashes—but then again, maybe he did.

Edward knew exactly what he was doing.

"Okay, we'll burn the fucker," I said, shoving my hand deep into his pocket and getting it stuck.

I tugged and tugged, but it wouldn't budge.

Taking a peek up at Edward through my eyelashes, I saw that he was unaware of my dilemma—and there was no way I was going to clue him in. He behaved like a cranky asshole, and any deviation from his perfectly constructed plan was unacceptable.

"What are you doing?" he asked, observing me with piqued curiosity.

"Don't worry about it," I replied in an exhausted pant, thrashing my head back and pushing against the upper thigh. I'd been applying an opposing force with my elbow, and it was working. I could feel my hand slipping out, but the downside of all this jostling of movement created this wet and awful squishing sound.

I scrunched up my nose in disgust.

He laughed. "Don't tell me you're going to puke again."

"Shut up!" I said, closing my eyes to block out his taunting.

I felt him lean over the body, and he spoke low and gruff. "Come on, baby, don't be like that," he paused, even closer now, with his breath on my face as he rolled his thumb over my bottom lip.

He invaded every part of me.

"You're distracting me. Go away," I growled, opening my eyes and shooting a semi-convincing glare.

Closer and closer still, he stared at me with wide and innocent eyes—as if he wasn't purposely teasing me.

"What am I doing?"

"You know exactly what you're doing and don't try to pretend like you don't!" I spat, and he fucking smirked, upturned, crooked, and maddening.

Yes, Edward Cullen was impossible to ignore.

I pushed him away from me. I couldn't think straight with him so close. "Ugh, just sit over there like a good little criminal and let me work."

"All right then," he said, sitting back on his heels but still insisting on provoking me. "It's about time you started pulling your fucking weight around here."

That was it. I couldn't take it anymore.

"Jesus, Edward! Are you serious right now?" I wanted to smack him, but I was missing an appendage, and he could easily dodge me from this angle.

He held up his hands in a mocked surrender. "What?"

"Can you please be quiet for like, I don't know, five minutes?"

He chuckled, bowing his head down and giving me a reprieve from his alluring gaze as he bit his lip and waved me onward.

"Thank you," I said, disregarding that unquenchable fire in my stomach, giving the wallet one last, good yank, and it dislodged, causing my hand to fly out and hit me squarely in the face. The impact caught me off guard, and I landed hard on my ass. It took me a second for my eyesight to readjust as the white faded into a dim black, and colors finally came into play again.

The first thing I saw was a fretful Edward, his eyes boring into mine as he palmed the sides of my face.

"Jesus, baby, what the fuck is wrong with you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," I said, batting his hand away. My self-inflicted black eye was the least of my worries. All I cared about was waving my victory in his face. It was hard to keep the smugness out of my voice. "Who's carrying their weight around here now, huh? Without your help, too! I'm awesome. It's okay. You can say it."

"Yes, baby, you are awesome," he said, helping me to my feet. "You're the best there is at pick-pocketing a corpse, hands down."

And just like that, he deflated my ego in two-point-three seconds. That had to be a record.

"Wow, what a way to take the wind right out of my sails," I huffed, shoving the wallet into his chest with as much force as I could muster.

He laughed, taking a fistful of my hair and pulling me up to his lips. "Oh, stop your pouting. You know how fucking amazing I think you are."

"Yeah, well, it would be nice to hear it every once in a while," I said, trying to pull away from his hold, but he was strong and kept me close.

"Listen to me very closely," Edward said, leaning down and kissing my top lip gently and briefly. He whispered. "You're amazing." He then trailed his mouth down, kissing me tenderly in the hollow of my neck and humming against the skin. "You're amazing."

More kisses along my body and even more whispering of those words to solidify their meaning, and he kept doing this until I forgot everything.

Drugged and relaxed from his seduction, he released me, and my legs wavered beneath me. It made it troublesome to stand upright.

He placed his hands on my hips and dipped his head to get eye-level with me. "Can you manage it on your own?"

I nodded.

"Good," he said, taking a step back and slowly removing his hands.

When he was sure I wouldn't fall on my face, he bent down to pick up some dry grass and began piling it on top of Caius.

"So," I said, stretching my arms over my head and glancing around the vast wheat field. The sun was low in the sky, close to setting, and emanated warm amber colors. "What should I do now?"

Not even bothering to meet my gaze, he extended his long finger and pointed. "We're going to need that."

"Need what?" I asked, following his lead upward and to the clotted mess of tissue and blood, faintly catching a glimpse of a gold rope strapped to Caius' neck. I shook my head and glared. "You gotta be fucking kidding me."

He shrugged, more grass and shrubs tossed to the ever-growing mound. "It has to be done. Remember what I said?"

Again with his rules...

"Never leave a shred of evidence behind."

"We take everything and leave nothing. You got it?"

"Yeah," I said, taking a broad but timid step toward the mangled head. "I've got it."

Teetering on the edges of the body and being mindful of where I placed my feet, I maintained a fair amount of distance. Blood was everywhere, and I did not want to step into the puddle that seeped into the ground. The last thing we needed was for me to leave a gruesome trail of footprints for the police to follow like breadcrumbs.

"Fuck!" I cursed when my left chuck was unable to avoid the carnage. The white sole turned into a deep reddish burgundy.

"What happened?" Edward asked.

Rubbing the shoe in the dirt and wiping off the smeared blood, I let out a frustrated sigh. "How do you get past this…this mess?"

"Eh, after a while, you become numb to it, and it doesn't even register that it's blood or guts. It's just a big blob of red."

Edward was blasé about stealing, robbing, killing—well, just about everything and I envied him for it.

"How many times does it take to do something like this before you go numb?" I asked, keeping a wider berth as I approached Caius from another direction.

"Two to three times, maybe. It depends on the person." He tilted his head to the side. "Why do you ask?"

"I just don't want to lose my lunch every time we do this," I said, bending down to remove the last bit of jewelry.

"Every time we do this?" There was amusement in his voice. "How many people do you plan on killing?"

"Not many," I said, gripping the chain with my gloved hand and ripping it away from the shortened stump of a neck, "just my piece of shit stepfather."

"And you think you're ready for all that?" He sounded skeptical.

I'm sure he was thinking back to my weak stomach and tying that to my emotions, but that had little to do with what I felt inside. There was no shame or remorse for the man I killed. The only thing that was an issue for me was the blood-spattered mess left behind.

I got sick because my eyes were unprepared for the gore, but I was optimistic that I would overcome that after many kills.

"Oh, I've been ready…for a long fucking time," I said, opening up my palm and staring down at the bloodied pendant. It was a religious token with a woman's head bent in silent prayer.

"La Virgen De Guadalupe," Edward spoke softly into my ear. He had his strong arms wrapped around my waist, and the two-day post-shave scruff tickled my skin as he rested his chin on my neck.

"Who?" I asked, allowing my body to mold itself into his warmth.

"That pendent in your hand," he said, taking it from me and holding it up. "La Virgen De Guadalupe is a Catholic icon and considered a saint in Mexico. She is all things pure and holy. She's worn as protection against all the evils in the world."

I scoffed. "Caius was the evil in this world."

"And now he's dead, so, in a sense, she's done her job," he said, placing the necklace back in my open palm and manually closing my fingers around it. "Here, take it. La Virgen De Guadalupe is your trophy now."

Turning around to face him, I smiled weakly. "This won't protect people like us, Edward."

He held me tighter. "And why not?"

"Because, you and me, we're not the good in this world."

"Says who?" he asked, gesturing behind me. "Caius—a fucking rapist? Our parents? The police? America? Nancy Fucking Grace? Fuck them—all of them! We are who we are and that's it, Bella. Never make apologies, do you hear me?"

Grabbing him by the shirt and rising to my tippy-toes, I stared into the depths of his soul and whispered against his lips, making my last promise. "No apologies."

"No apologies," he echoed as he clasped his strong hands around my throat and kissed me. My heart raced as the need to feel every inch of him escalated to an unruly level. He pressed his arousal into my stomach, and I wrapped my leg around him, yanking him closer as my fingers dug into the skin of his biceps.

"Fuck!" He groaned and pulled away. "You're a bad influence on me, woman."

"It's not my fault you're easily influenced," I said, chasing after his lips and seeking to corrupt his morals further.

"Easily and willingly are two separate things, but I rather stay a free man and continue to enjoy being influenced by you," he said, dodging my advances and gently pushing me backward.

Rejected and hurt, I glowered at him. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means," he said sternly, removing my groping hands from his pants, "if you don't stop rubbing my dick, I'll be likely to fuck you right here."

I smiled. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Nothing. Until the cops come and arrest us."

I frowned. "What about a quicky then?"

"No go."

"Why?"

"I like to cuddle post-coital."

The sunset and the sky turned a dark purple overhead. With his thumb, Edward flicked the Zippo lighter and bent down to set fire to the evidence. The large pile of shrub and dry grass that covered the body head to toe ignited in a flash, growing from a tiny orange flicker of a flame into a bright blue inferno. It emanated this intense and overpowering heat, burning my face and forcing me to look away.

Edward stayed crouched by the blaze and stuck a cigarette into his mouth. He bent his head down into the fire and lit the tip. He sat there inhaling and exhaling, blowing out smoke rings that drifted up and mingled with the towering black cloud—which was rising to a noticeable level.

It made me nervous.

"Um, baby," I said, rubbing his back to gain attention. But he was off in a world of his own. "As much as I enjoy a good bonfire, I think we should leave."

I'll be damned if we get caught now, especially after he denied the sex to ensure our freedom.

"Yeah," he said, standing up from his squat. He turned and snatched the blood-stained shirt from my hands, throwing the wadded fabric into the fire.

Whoosh.

It created a bright, engulfing light that flickered and illuminated his beautiful face.

He pulled the dangling cigarette from his mouth and held it to me. "Smoke."

Submitting to his wants, I leaned into him and placed my lips around the filter. The smoke burned and pained my lungs, but I didn't cough. He watched me, his eyes menacing and lustful, enjoying my further descent into depravity.

I'd always been the bad girl hiding in the good girl's clothing, waiting for my bad boy to strip me bare.

"Damn, that's sexy," Edward said, allowing me to take two more drags from the cigarette before snatching it from my mouth and flicking it into the fire. "But you shouldn't smoke, baby. It's bad for you."

"But you're the one—" That was all I got out before he attacked my lips and silenced me.

It was pointless to argue with him when he kissed me this way. The power behind it made my legs weak and my thoughts hazy. It was easy to forget about the fire that smoldered behind us, the sirens that echoed and charged toward us in the distance, and the fear of imprisonment if we didn't flee the scene in time.

Nothing in those moments mattered except the feel of his lips on mine. I cursed him for having this effect on me.

Pulling away but keeping his hands securely on my face, he bent his head down and smirked, all crooked and mischievous. "Can you walk, or do I have to carry you?"

The blood rushed to my cheeks, and I pushed him away, taking a step back to prove my independence.

He laughed, reaching down and grabbing my hand. "Alright then, walking it is."

As we started towards the tree line, the faint sounds of police and fire trucks sirens screeching grew loud in the distance, signaling that they were close—too close.

"Fuck!" Edward cursed, tightening his grip on me as his feet began to speed up our pace. "Yeah, on second thought, perhaps we should run."

We ran in the darkness, my heart going a mile a minute as several tree branches whacked me in the face and headed north, or what we assumed was north, towards Tipton. It was the only town within miles, and we needed to find a car to steal.

Peter and Charlotte had expected us in Rockford over two hours ago, but we took longer with Caius, and Edward and I were easily distracted by each other. Nothing we did, whether robbing a convenience store or committing murder, was within a constricted time frame. We did what we wanted when we wanted. It was why we were always on the verge of getting caught by the police. We toyed with fate, tempting it with our recklessness, and eventually, if we weren't careful, she would strike us down with a vengeance.

I prayed to La Virgen Guadalupe that day would never come.

The silver Volvo we stole was wiped down and abandoned in a Wal-Mart parking lot thirty minutes outside Rockford. We took three city buses and one taxi cab the rest of the way. By the time we arrived at the motel where Peter and Charlotte were staying, we were fucking exhausted. The day's events had taken their toll, and we were a collective mess of dirt, smoke smudge, and dry speckles of splattered blood.

My jean shorts and light grey t-shirt, bearing the brunt of it, told a violent and gruesome story.

As we entered the hotel lobby, I noticed several people staring at us with wary eyes. They kept their distance, even taking a broad step back when we got too close. It was a normal reaction that Edward often elicited out of strangers. Their self-preservation was kicking in, and they knew by looking at him that he was dangerous.

I thought it was their narrow-mindedness, judging him solely based on the tattoos and piercings, but it was something more, deep down from within, that these people were sensing about him.

But the way they were staring at us now was different.

In the not-so-distant past, people would see me with Edward and have this instinct to rescue me, thinking that I was some young and impressionable girl mixed in with the wrong guy. Their concern for my well-being was written all over their face, and one time, an older lady approached me and offered me a safe haven.

I'd laughed and assured her that I was fine, but that worry, seen in so many people, was gone.

They perceived me as a threat, and that revelation changed everything.

"How many rooms do you need?" The clerk asked flatly, not even bothering to look up from his phone as we approached the counter.

Wow, I thought.

The customer service in this shit-hole hotel was top-notch.

"Just one room," Edward answered, reaching into his back pocket to pull out his wallet.

The clerk put down his phone and twisted in his chair towards the computer.

"Preferably with a king-size bed," Edward added, snaking his arm around my waist and pulling me to his side.

"Alright, one room with one bed," he said, typing away at the keys, clickity-click-click. "And how long are you planning to stay with…" his sentence dropped off, and his eyes grew wide as he looked up from the computer and took in our disheveled appearance. "Holy shit!" he sputtered, chair pushed back into the wall. "What the hell happened to you guys? You look like you've just killed someone."

Well, the rude desk clerk was observant. I'll give him that.

Without missing a beat, Edward replied, "Maybe we did. What the fuck is it to you?"

The clerk was shocked by the sudden hostility. He stared Edward down, unsure what to think.

This agitated Edward.

"Well?" he asked, trying to coax a response out of the clerk.

The clerk turned to me, seeking my reassurance that my boyfriend was full of shit, but I just looked at him, unmoving and unsmiling.

I don't know what made me react so coldly.

Perhaps it was exhaustion.

The tension built, and the clerk rose from his chair to get a better look at my clothes and Edward's tattoos. Then, horror-stricken, he slowly returned to his seat so as not to make sudden movements. It whined in painful duress under the clerk's massive weight.

"I don't want any trouble, man," the guy said, addressing Edward but staring at me.

There wasn't anything flirtatious about his gaze, and I'm sure my face, although stoic and expressionless, was far less threatening than my companion's. Still, it didn't matter how innocent it was. The disrespect did not sit well with Edward. His possessive nature came out in full force, putting him on the attack.

"You know, I've killed the last guy who couldn't keep his damn eyes off what is mine..." Edward said, flicking the clerk's name tag, "Ben."

He wasn't an idiot, quickly looking away from me and refocusing his attention on the computer screen.

"I didn't...mean...I didn't mean to stare," he stuttered, gulping back his nerves and typing away at the keyboard. His hands were shaking under stress, and he had to backspace a few times. "I don't want any trouble."

The poor guy was shitting his pants, and it surprised me how humorous I found it to be.

Edward was right. Making people squirm was fun.

When the bead of sweat rolled down and got into Ben's eye, causing him to jump, like we'd shot him, I lost all of my composure.

It started as a giggle, soon morphing into laughter, and when I snorted, it caused Edward to break character.

We were laughing, gaining more stares from people, and confusing the shit out of Ben.

"Nah, man, we're just messing with you," Edward said through his chuckles, patting Ben on the shoulder, all friendly-like.

"Huh?" he replied, dumbfounded, glancing back and forth between Edward and me.

"It was a joke," I explained.

"A joke?" he repeated, still wary.

"Yeah, we're crazy," Edward said, playfully nudging me with his elbow. "We just like fucking with people."

"Halloween," I said, waving my hand over my clothes. "I'm the murdered victim."

It must have been the relief of not being face to face with two possible killers because he took my Halloween explanation and ran with it. It didn't even occur to him that it was only October twenty-first.

He chuckled, albeit nervously, and shook his stubby finger at us. "Oh, fucking-a, man, you guys totally had me pissing myself."

I smiled, standing on my tip toes and peering over the counter, and noticed he had his phone clutched in his hand. I wondered who he would call if we were going to kill him. Did he think he would have enough time before we put a bullet in his head?

Bored with the conversation, Edward opened his wallet and pulled out some money. "How much did you say it was for the room?"

"Oh, yeah, your room," Ben said quickly, typing on the keyboard without having to backspace. "It will be seventy-five for the night and fifty after that."

"That was with the king -sized bed, correct?" I asked.

"Yup, California king. You've been upgraded," he said, giving me a suggestive grin and a waggle of the eyebrows.

That was a rather bold gesture.

Did he forget the last two minutes?

Edward did not miss the exchange as he threw four twenties down on the counter.

"We'll take it, and uh, one more thing before I forget," he said with a genuine and benign smile, "If you don't stop staring at what's mine, I will fucking kill you."

That was the last time Ben, the rude desk clerk, glanced my way.

This Safari Inn was the millionth hotel room we've stayed in since we began our road trip over two months ago, and they were all starting to look the same: old carpet, fire-retardant bed sheets, and a twenty-inch television set. It smelled of body sweat, urine, and stale Chinese food. It made my stomach twist and lurch, and I wished we didn't have to stay in these hotels in the worst part of town, but it was safer than the Hilton.

No one asked questions here because everyone had their demons to deal with it.

Criminals hid in the open amongst other criminals.

"I'm going to go next door and get our stuff," Edward said once we were in the room. He tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. "Are you going to be okay by yourself?"

Reaching around him, I pulled the Colt from his waistband and smiled. "I'll be fine."

"Alright, tough guy," he said, leaning down and kissing me on the forehead, "keep it cocked and lock up behind me." He smacked my ass for good measure, making me jump and yelp from the sting; he laughed and walked to the door. Then, stopping short, almost as if he remembered something, he spun back around. "You shoot any motherfucker who walks through this door that ain't me, got it?"

I cocked the gun and pointed it at his head. "Yeah, I got it."

"Christ," he groaned, closing his eyes and gently banging his head against the wooden doorframe. "You have to go, asshole," he repeatedly muttered, closing the door behind him.

Once the lock clicked over, I headed straight for the bathroom. My body was screaming for a hot shower. It'd been a long and exhausting day—physically and mentally.

Laying the Colt down on the toilet tank near the shower stall, I peeled off my shirt and shorts and kicked them into a pile by the door. They needed good washing, and my initial decision was to burn them because I wanted to forget, but the tainted clothes were a reminder. Just like the pendant that hung from my neck, it was a token of a violent story that shined a light on what I'd become.

No apologies.

Leaning down and turning the water on full blast, I tested the temperature with my fingertips, and thankfully, it didn't take long for it to heat up. Stepping in and positioning myself underneath the spray, I wet down my hair and enjoyed the feel of the hot water running along my back and soothing my tense muscles.

It was heavenly, and I may have moaned, perhaps a tad louder than intended.

Closing my eyes, I angled my body towards the nozzle and rinsed off the dried sweat and flecks of smoke ash from my face. All the day's stress flowed from me and went down the drain, leaving my body clean and my mind free of its weight.

That was when I felt him.

The rough touch of his hands was firm on my waist and only getting tighter in grip as his lips kissed me, trailing a slow and sensual path up my spine. I drew a shaky breath, trying to calm down, but it was impossible. He drove me mad with desire, and my body reacted with this uncontrolled greed whenever he touched me.

Sliding his hands up, he palmed my water-soaked breasts and gave them a gentle but firm squeeze, rolling his thumbs over my hardened nipples. Then, leaning down and pressing his rock-hard erection into my lower back, he sunk his teeth into my shoulder, closing his mouth around the skin and marking it, signifying me as his property.

I gasped, and my body reacted, overwrought with lust. I reached behind, grasped hold of Edward's cock, and yanked him closer, needing to feel more of this man, every lip-biting inch.

"Easy," he murmured against my neck, removing his hands from my breasts, moving them down my stomach and to my hips, where they stayed, firm and gripping.

Slow and gentle, I stroked him. He timed his movements with mine, aided by the water pouring over our heads. Moaning and grunting into my ear, I wanted him more than I could ever describe.

I was so fucking crazy in love with him.

Keeping one hand on my hip, he glided the other up to my throat, pushing my forehead against the tile and popping my ass out.

He put his knee in between my semi-parted legs and widened my stance.

My heart pounded in anticipation.

Placing his hand over mine and guiding me, he positioned his cock where we both wanted it most. It slipped and moved smoothly along my lips, the tip of the head parting them, blindly seeking entrance. I let go of him and bent over, and with one hard thrust, he was inside of me.

I moaned, my hands shooting out and gripping the side of the wall and shower curtain, needing something to keep me standing and braced.

"That's it, baby." Edward pushed in further, filling my pussy up and accessing every inch. It was overwhelming, pervading my thoughts with the feel of his cock, hard and thick, deep inside.

He stilled all movement, caressing the curve of my ass and kissing my neck, taking his time with me, but I wanted more.

I craved friction.

"Oh, God, Edward," I whimpered, wiggling my body, fucking desperate for him.

That simple plea was all it took, and he grabbed a handful of my hair for leverage, pulling out slowly, agonizingly, only to slam back into me.

I cried out as my fingers clawed at the wall and pale blue shower curtain and yanked it from its hooks.

"Is this what you want?" he asked, yanking my ass back and ramming his hips into me. "You want to be fucked hard, don't you?"

"Yes," I gasped, biting my bottom lip hard, almost breaking the skin.

"Yeah," he panted, "that's what," thrusting faster, "I fucking," hitting me deeper, "thought."

My pussy clenched around his pulsating cock, so close, and I wanted to scream.

He felt how my body reacted, the tightening and constricting, and it quickened his pace.

In and out, our moans were loud yet muffled by the tiled walls surrounding the bathroom's confines.

"Fuck!" Edward hissed, pulling out and spinning my body around. "I need to see you…." He grabbed the sides of my face, brutal and needy, as his eyes flashed and bored into mine, locking me in his stare. Edward shoved me back against the wall, the water no longer spraying on us. "Fuck, I just need..." He crashed our lips together and forcefully pushed his tongue into my mouth.

He was rough.

He was domineering.

He was mine.

"More," I said, my hands flying up and into his hair, gripping and pulling him down, closer and closer, forever needing more and more.

It was never, never enough.

"Hold on to me," he said.

Draping my arms around his neck, he grabbed the sides of my thighs and hoisted me up. Then, wrapping my legs around him and locking them at my ankles, he pinned my back to the wall and slid into me with ease.

With long and measured thrusts, deep and consuming, he slowed his pace and eventually stopped. Holding me in place with his weight, he tilted his head back and stared at me. I moved the damp hair from his face and looked down into those deep green eyes. There was so much behind his serene expression.

"I love you," he said.

That hit me.

Hard.

A lot harder than I expected.

Burying my face in the crook of his neck, I hugged him as tight as I could and whispered, "I love you."

"Hmm," he hummed, and I could feel him smiling against my wet skin, "say that again."

"I love you," I repeated, louder than a whisper but still just as soft.

"Look at me, baby," he demanded.

I pulled away from his neck and met his gaze.

He smiled. "There you are, my beautiful and crazy girl." He pushed forward, causing me to gasp. "Now tell me."

"I love you."

He leaned up and kissed my lips. "Again," he ordered, slowly picking up speed.

"I love you!" I said louder, my voice ragged and strained.

"Fuck! You have no idea..." he closed his eyes and rocked his hips, pushing in and out of me.

I moaned.

He grunted.

The feel of him buried deep and surrounded by me. I felt myself giving in to the pleasure. It was a slow and progressive burn, flickering at the edges, and when he reached down between us, stroking my clit with his two fingers, that fire burst into flames.

I clawed his shoulders and whimpered.

"So fucking good," he whispered, but I heard him.

He shifted and lifted me higher, angling our bodies in such a way that it hit the spot and, overwhelmingly, pressed against my bladder.

I felt something new, unusual.

The sensation resembled a familiar urge, and I almost stopped him, but it changed just as quickly as it arose and wrecked me.

It was unlike anything I'd ever felt before, it was intense and forceful, and I came hard.

I screamed out his name and a slew of profanities, my whole body shook with pleasure, and it was everywhere. It tingled from the tip of my toes to the ends of my ears.

"Fuck!" he hissed, setting me down on my feet and pulling out.

He put his hand on my chest and pressed me against the wall. Then, taking a broad step back into the shower spray path, he stroked his cock. I watched in fascination as he came.

Brow furrowed.

Eyes closed.

Lips pursed.

Muscles were tightening.

It turned me on to witness him come undone, pleasuring himself in a primal way.

My pussy throbbed, and I wanted him again.

Jerking and twitching, slowly coming down from his high, he stood straight and towered over me. He opened his eyes, a slight smirk curving at the corners of his mouth.

"I ruined your shower."

I smiled, grabbing his hands and pulling him back to me. "Let's ruin it some more."

Edward took a long drag of the joint and then passed it over to me. "Here."

We stole some weed from Emmett and decided to get high. It was the best chronic on this side of Kansas. Of course, that wasn't saying much, but Emmett was picky about his mistress, Mary Jane. She went down smoothly, and the taste of her was intense. It didn't take much to get me off on her. I was feeling the effects of her kiss after three hits of her joint.

Blowing the smoke out, I gazed in wonderment as it floated toward the popcorn ceiling. Then, finally, it slowed and waved, and a billowing white cloud dissipated into a hazy fog.

Edward sat up and hovered over me, stroking my cheek. "You high, baby?"

I nodded.

"Yeah?"

"Mmhmm," I answered with a hum, which turned into a giggle.

He scooted closer to me and grabbed the joint from my hand. I stared as he put it back into his mouth, wrapping his beautifully puckered lips around the tip.

I wanted to kiss them.

Bite them.

Edward met my gaze, leaning down and nodding for me to open my mouth. Like so many times before, he blew the smoke into my mouth. I held it in, getting better at holding my own. It burned less, and I could keep it locked in my lungs and, at times, completely forget to exhale.

"So beautiful when you're high," he said, pulling down the white sheet and exposing my bare chest. He ran his fingers down the side of my right breast, a wispy touch that drove me to insanity.

I squirmed, arching my back and begging for him to touch me.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, trailing his hand along my rib cage, up to my stomach, and then dipping below my panties.

I grasped the sheets in my fingers, panting with need. "More than anything."

He skimmed his nose along my jaw. "I'll never hurt you."

"I know."

"Close your eyes," he said, fingers retreating.

I wanted to cry out, but I trusted him, and with that trust comes blind obedience.

"That's my girl," he said, removing his heat from me, the bed jostling under the sudden weight shift.

I listened as he messed with something on the bedside table. It sounded like he was removing the clip from the Colt. He cocked it and then placed something back down. I think it was the bullet from the chamber, but I couldn't be sure.

He came back over to me and pressed his lips to mine. I clutched his arms, enjoying the feel of his taut muscles and protruding veins.

"Keep your eyes closed," he said.

I gulped. "okay."

My whole body was on edge.

It was cold.

That was my first impression.

My second one was that it was hard and narrow.

Edward traced it along my breasts. It aroused and puckered my nipples.

What was he doing, and why was it affecting me this way?

"Breathe," Edward whispered, dragging the object down my stomach, circling my belly button, and gently adding pressure.

There was a click.

I tensed.

He continued to move down below the waistband of my panties.

I gasped, jerking away from him.

"Relax, baby," he said, grabbing my throat to keep me still.

I tried not to move. It was hard to keep my body from reacting to Edward's touch, but now he was sucking on my nipple and sliding something cold and hard along my slick lips. I clutched the bed sheets, unable to withhold the moan that escaped from me.

"Fuck!" Edward groaned and propped himself up.

He glared when I opened my eyes and demanded that I keep them close. He even threatened to blindfold me if I didn't submit.

"I'm a good girl," I vowed.

He pulled my panties off me and parted my legs. I shivered as his hand ran down my left thigh. It was impossible not to look when he licked me. Then, there was a pause where nothing happened, and I knew he was watching to ensure I behaved. My eyes stayed coiled shut. Edward pushed me wider, getting his shoulders wedged and settled between my legs. He breathed on me. It tickled, but the anticipation of what he would do next was the worst.

It started with his tongue. He lazily drew a line with the tip from my pussy-hole up to my eager clit. I would come right then, but the cold, hard object reemerged and pushed inside of me, stunning my heart and breath once again. I was still as Edward slowly eased in and out. Finally, he would pull out, stroking my lips with the moist, narrow, rigid edge.

"Oh, God, baby," I moaned as my fingers fisted the sheets and drew them up to me, peeling them off the mattress.

"Fucking beautiful," he murmured, gently shoving it back inside me.

The sensation of his mouth kissing my lower lips, overwhelming tongue, and the Colt working me was different but incredible. It was hard not to lose myself and come undone. I didn't care about the thin walls or who might hear me. I screamed, moaned, tossed, and shook. My thighs closed around Edward's head and kept him tightly locked there.

It didn't stop him from fucking me harder.

The gun was deep inside me, and his teeth were biting and drawing my swollen, tenderly sore pussy and clit into his mouth. I rolled my hips and arched my back as the tingle came in like a whisper and finished as a shout. It was intense and crashed into me with force; it knocked me back.

"I'm coming! Yes! Fuck!" I sat up and grabbed fistfuls of his hair, pushing him deeper into me until the tickles ceased.

With a whoosh of air, all my tense muscles relaxed, and I released my grip, falling back into the bed.

Even then, with my breath coming out in staggered pants, I didn't open my eyes.

If this was a dream, I didn't want to wake up.

"God damn!" Edward chuckled as he scooted up on the bed and kissed my terse lips.

My eyes peeked open, and he admired his smirk in the reflection of the Colt's barrel. The once shiny, glossed chrome was smudged with our deed.

I let him fuck me with his gun. I wanted to fight and yell at him for being so reckless, but I couldn't muster the energy. This beautiful man caused me to come undone in a fantastic way that everything turned hazy.

"I'm hungry," I said.

"Me too," he said and turned to the nightstand to grab his phone, but something on the television caught his eye. "Holy fucking shit!"

"Huh? What is it?" I asked, a little tired but also thinking about how good a meatball sub sounded.

"This is it, kid," Edward said, his eyes bright with excitement. "It's starting."

"What's starting?" I asked, still bewildered from what had just transpired. My aching body was slow to come down.

"They're doing it. Those fucking assholes are really doing it," Edward said, grabbing my arm and pulling me up. He gestured towards the television. "Just watch."

It was CNN or MSNBC or whichever, but they were broadcasting a famous and recurring story of this generation's Bonnie and Clyde. The ever-elusive couple had struck again in Nebraska. It was at a mom-and-pop store in the middle of nowhere, but they were vigilant and had a security camera.

"Oh, shit," I said, my hands flying to my mouth in shock.

It was grainy footage, not showing much detail, but that didn't matter. The surveillance camera showed a couple entering the store and robbing it. The clerk behind the desk was a young guy, maybe in his early teens, and he complied with their demands without hesitation.

It took all but two minutes to carry out the stick-up.

They followed Edward's rules down to the fucking letter.

I was impressed.

It was clear to me that Jasper and Alice set it off. The guy in the video towered over the girl by a foot or more. Their body proportions and movement were nothing like how Edward and I operated.

It was too obvious, and nobody was going to buy it.

"People aren't that stupid."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Edward said, giving me a sideways glance.

"How long have I been talking out loud?"

He laughed, sitting down the Colt and remote, laying back in the bed, and pulling me along. "Come here."

"Don't make fun of me, Edward," I said, curling into his side, breathing in his devastating scent.

"Baby." He caressed my cheek. "Why in the fuck would I ever make fun of you? Huh? You're perfect."

I snorted. "No, I'm high."

"Like I said," he rolled over to face me, lips just inches from mine, "perfect."

"You're high," I said, quickly concealing my blush in the warmth of his neck. "And perfect."

He kissed the top of my head. "Listen, tomorrow we start making preparations for Chicago. You ready for that?"

I hugged him. "As long as you're there by my side, I am ready for anything."

"What if this ends badly and..." He sighed. "What if this path we're going on leads us to certain death?"

"Then I guess we'll be spending our Halloween in Hell."

"You would actually give up Heaven to come hang out in Hell with a pathetic piece of shit like me?"

I pulled away from the comfort of his neck and propped my elbows on his chest. He raised his head to meet my gaze, forehead creased with uncertainty.

"Haven't you been paying attention? I would follow you anywhere."