Beta: Frannie
Prereaders: Jill, Pearly, and Ariel
My heart: Full if love for my readers and reviewers.One hand held a cigarette, the smoke curling up into the air. The cherry burned without my breath to aid it, the tip of ashes growing steadily. I hadn't taken a drag from it in a minute; my mind lost on those fiery brown eyes.
She saw me. She fucking saw me.
That doesn't mean she knows who I am or what I do, of course, but it's a definite fucking no-no in this world, and the Chief will have my balls if he finds out.
What's worse, even, is that she fucking saw me. Not Agent Cullen. Me. Edward Anthony Masen Cullen, son of Carlisle and Esme Cullen. Broken. Lonelier than he wants to admit. Scared to lose his mom. More scared to find someone else that will make his life more bearable.
And she fucking saw it all.
I'm normally so good about keeping the mask on, even for myself. But with one look of her rich, brown eyes, she shattered me.
Why? What makes her so special?
She's not.
Tomorrow, I'll go to the Chief. I'll tell him the case has been compromised. I'll pass her on to someone else.
It's the right thing to do. The responsible thing to do.
My computer pings, alerting me that one of my subjects is active. It's late, so most of them are asleep. Mike is the only one who's still up, playing World of Warcraft like it's still the cool thing to do. I hardly pay attention to him, though, just like everyone else in his life. He's not dangerous, just a recluse. Someday he may snap, but he's not one of those fedora hat-wearing meninists with a manifesto I need to watch.
When my finger on the touchpad brings my monitor back to life, I catch myself taking in a sharp breath of smoke-filled air.
Bella is drenched, her blue dress now nearly black and dripping all over her cheap, hardwood floors. Her black fuck-me pumps are held in her hand, and she's even angrier now than when I left her.
I should have been monitoring her phone or peeking into the security cameras at the restaurant. I should've made sure she was okay.
But I panicked. What is it about this average, everyday woman that makes me forget every bit of my training?
Agent Cullen doesn't panic. He doesn't take missteps. He's calculated, and thorough, and dedicated to his job.
Even with all these thoughts swirling in my head, I can't keep my eyes off the screen; off her.
Her hair is hanging in a limp, soaked mess, sticking to her skin, and even through the shitty quality of the camera on her laptop she thankfully always leaves open, I can see
the fire I left in her eyes hasn't been extinguished. Not by a long shot.
It's such a contrast from what I've seen of her so far. Bella is not an angry person, not by a long shot. It's only been a couple weeks, but I can already see this isn't a side of her that comes out to play very often.
That smile I mentioned she always has? Yeah, it's fucking gone, now.
I perk up when another person comes blazing through the door. She's a tiny little thing, shorter than Bella, who is already on the shorter side. Her hair is jet black and cut short to her head, only long enough to be in messy yet trendy disarray. Her arms, the only skin I can really see of her, are covered in tattoos, and a septum ring, lip ring, and multiple ear piercings shine in the dim light of Bella's apartment. She looks like a vengeful little pixie, small but kick-ass.
There's something about her I like already.
"I swear to God, Alice, I'm going to kill him," Bella seethes, wringing her hair out over her sink.
"I'll help you hide the body," Alice declares with a nod.
I sigh, leaning back in my office chair and clasping my hands behind my head.
Here we fucking go.
