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 Twelve-
The ultimate cock-blocker had made the touches between Edward and me more restrained and cautious. I knew the moment we gave in to our urges again without a door lock, Emmett would come waltzing into the room.
I didn't want to take the chance.
The backlash of getting caught by Emmett was worse than I'd expected. He was like a dog with a bone, gnawing at it fiercely, and despite Edward's intense glares, he wouldn't drop it.
It was subtle at first, nothing too crude. Emmett would elbow Edward proudly, giving him silent props. It was a guy thing. But with me, for no reason, he would bust out into song and sing, 'Girl, You'll be a Woman Soon.'
My face flushed a deep and undeniable red, and I'd ducked my head behind some pillow's on the couch. I wanted to hide in the room, but I couldn't be a coward like that. Edward was there and rubbed my back, keeping me strong, and gave Emmett a deadly scowl.
Later that day, we walked out the door and headed for the hardware store when Emmett decided to truly up his game. He started to make loud and obnoxious moaning sounds, even banging his fists against the wall, simulating a rocking headboard. His faces were funny, but when he said, 'Oh, Edward, give it to me,' Edward reached his limit.
"That's fucking it," he snapped, striding up to the coffee table and confiscating Emmett's last bag of weed.
"What the fuck, man?" Emmett said, reaching for it as Edward dangled it in front of his face.
"You're being a dick," he said, shoving it into his back pocket, "and you're not getting your shit back until you show my girl some fucking respect."
I gaped at Edward, surprised by how openly he was about us.
Our relationship, which had been stagnant for nearly a month, was suddenly being propelled into the stratosphere. So when Edward decided on something, he just went for it. He doesn't tip his toe in slowly to test the temperature of the water—No, he runs full speed and dives right in.
But what was more shocking than Edward's admission was that it didn't even faze Emmett. It was almost as if it wasn't even news to him.
"Dude, relax. I'm just teasing her as any big brother would," he said, shooting me a mischievous toothy grin.
Even though he was never going to let me live this down, and I probably would need therapy later, I couldn't stay mad at him. He was too much of a teddy bear.
Besides, I never had a big brother before. I liked it.
"Edward, it's fine." I laughed, shaking my head and rolling my eyes. "You can give the poor dope back his weed."
"Yes!" Emmett cheered, fist-pumping the air. He smiled at me. "Listen to your girl, Eddie."
Edward's brow furrowed severely, and he chewed on his lip ring, deep in thought and unwilling to forgive.
"It's okay. I'm not upset," I assured, nudging gently.
He gazed down at me, wanting to protect his girl but unable to deny her anything. Finally, he relented with a heavy sigh and reached into his back pocket, pulling out the weed.
"Here, asshole," Edward spat, chucking it back at Emmett, making sure to hit him directly in the face. "You're lucky Bella's a forgiving person. I would have made your dumbass suffer. God damned addict."
"Yeah, yeah," Emmett said, opening the bag and taking a big whiff. He hummed in contentment.
"Let's go, kid," Edward said, taking hold of my hand and pulling me towards the door.
As the door closed behind us, Emmett shouted. His voice had gotten muffled by solid wood, but I heard him. "Keep both hands on the wheel, Eddie!"
Things were vastly different between us. First, there was this sense of ownership. Edward made sure everyone knew I was his. It was the little things I'd noticed. Before, he would be aware of me, always stepping ahead, but keep his hand close by, just in case he needed to grab me at a moment's notice.
Now, his decision resolute and firm in his mind, he was grabby. He was always touching my face, kissing my lips, and smelling my hair. Nothing was off-limits to him.
I wasn't off limits.
As my body was tucked securely under Edward's arm, we strolled into the hardware store. People stared at us as we passed—well, they stared at Edward.
It was always an exciting experience being in public with him because the looks people gave Edward were comical. They seemed unsure or even hesitant to be near him. It was clear to me, even from the beginning, that people feared him. It was an instinct telling them this guy was bad news. Self-preservation of sorts, and they wanted to keep their distance.
I wondered if it was all the tattoos and piercings that they feared or if it was something else. Something that people saw in him and I didn't. Maybe I was too close and infatuated with him to see the real danger.
"Fuck, these locks are expensive," Edward grunted in displeasure.
We stood in the aisle, scanning the shelves and looking for that perfect door lock. Edward was extremely picky about it and shot down most of my suggestions. I refrained from telling him that a door lock was just a door lock.
"Ah, here we go," he said, reaching up and pulling down a deadbolt.
It was satin plated and huge. It offered top-of-the-line closure and protection—and it should. But, of course, the damn thing was sixty bucks.
"Good. Perfect. Let's go," I said, grabbing Edward's shirt and trying to tug him out.
"Shit, this isn't the one I want," he said, raising his arm and putting it back.
"Impossible," I groaned.
I was about to glance away from him, perhaps go off and venture into the next aisle over, when something caught my eye.
Tanya.
It was bold, black, and always staring me right in the face. I never said anything about it because I never felt I had any right to Edward, but now, things were different.
I was his, and he was mine.
That tattoo was like a runaway train, plowing me over with such force and velocity, and I couldn't hold my tongue any longer.
I had to know.
"Who's Tanya?" I blurted out. My tact was rusty, and my lead less than eloquent.
He shot his eyes down at me in surprise. "What?"
"That tattoo on your bicep," I said, my tone clipped and seeping with jealousy. "Who is she?"
"She who?" he asked, frazzled. "What are you talking about?"
"Tan-ya," I said, drawing out the trashy girl's name. "Is she an ex-girlfriend?"
Hopefully, a dead ex-girlfriend, and if not, I could quickly remedy that.
What the hell? Did I seriously think about killing someone?
I shook my head, trying to expel those murderous thoughts. "Maybe some lost long sister you failed to mention?"
The confused expression on his face slowly faded and turned into a sly smile. "I've always considered her to be more like a wife to me."
"An ex-wife?" I asked, gritting my teeth.
"No," he said, his voice turned serious. "No, she's still with me. She's here."
Everything, my heart, my mind, and the little places in between, were broken and shattered into a thousand pieces. The homicidal thoughts resurfaced, and the only thing that kept me upright was the joy of killing this unknown wife of his.
Tanya.
It wasn't rational thinking nor healthy, but I was possessive over Edward.
He was mine.
"Bella?" he asked, bending down and getting to my eye level. "Would you like to meet her?"
All I could do was nod.
"Alright, let's go then," he said, throwing down the lock he had in his hand and hooking his arm around my neck.
He dragged me out of the aisle, weaving through the store and leading me back to the front. The patrons watched us with wary eyes, giving us a wide berth as we passed.
"Does she work here?" I asked, searching for a cute female, someone with "blonde hair and big boobs," but the only person I saw was a heavyset man with a beard.
He laughed. "She's not blonde or big boobed."
"Ugh," I said, annoyed with my slip.
I have to stop doing that.
He stopped, angling my body towards the store's front windows, and pointed to the parking lot.
"She's right there. Do see her? She's the redhead." he said, his hot breath on my ear.
My eyes searched, looking for this Tanya person, but there was no one there, just his car. It didn't take a genius to figure out whom—no, what—he was pointing at, his fucking wife.
"Isn't she beautiful," he said, standing behind me, close and warm, with his hands firmly placed on my hips, "sitting out there, all red and shiny as fuck?"
"Tanya…she's your car," I said, a little stunned but relieved.
"Yup," he said. "That's my baby. She's been faithful to me for six fucking years. I found her at this junkyard in Apache Junction. Some idiot didn't know what he had."
There was no wife. No girlfriend. No proof of any other woman in his life. No one I had to kill. Hell, if I deluded myself enough, I could pretend he was celibate before he met me, however unlikely.
I turned my head and looked up at him. "Not only did you name your car, but you got it tattooed on your arm?"
"What? She's my baby," he said, all innocent and childlike.
I laughed and untangled myself from my arms. "It's just a car, Edward."
That stupid tattoo on his bicep had me freaking out over some phantom girl for weeks, and I found out he's paying homage to his car.
Edward jogged up after me as I stormed off towards the door locks, wanting to get our shit and leave, but wrapped his arms around me and jerked us into some random hallway. He pushed me up against the wall, knocking the air out of me.
"What are you doing?" I half shouted, glancing around me wildly, looking for people.
There was no one around.
He pinned his body to mine and grabbed me firmly around the throat, not to be threatening to me, but to arouse me, and it did.
"Were you jealous of Tanya?" he asked, sliding his free hand down my side and gripping my hip.
"No," I said, barely fighting against him.
He tightened his hold, and his lips were so close to mine. "Liar."
"I was just curious," I rambled. "I wanted to know who she was before I go marking up my body for you."
He glanced at my breasts, rising and falling fast with frenzied breathing. He smirked. "Too late."
I rolled my eyes. "I meant permanently."
"Just admit that you were jealous, baby," he said, eyes dark and menacing yet somewhat playful. It was an odd mixture. Only Edward could pull it off, "and I'll let you go."
"But I wasn't."
Lies. Lies. Lies.
If he only knew the truth.
"Suit yourself," he said, his mouth going to the skin on my neck, biting and sucking it.
I struggled again, and my eyes searched around us frantically. Someone had to be watching us, right? It was hard to imagine we were utterly alone.
He thrust and dug his fingers into my hip. My eyes closed, and I melted into him. Hell, I didn't care that we were in the middle of the store anymore. Let people see us.
I liked it. The biting, the sucking, the way he dominated me, and the danger of getting caught. Everything, and all of it, turned me on.
"Fine." I relented.
He pulled back and looked at me. "Fine, what?"
"I was jealous," I held back a smile, "of a stupid and ugly car."
He laughed, resting his forehead on mine. "Only you, baby."
"Could say such a statement and live," I said, finishing his sentence.
He nodded, releasing my neck and caressing the side of my face. "Only you."
Edward was a deadly criminal who enjoyed what he did. He was a man with no conscience, except, of course, when it came to me.
As we kissed, a kid walked into the hallway, and we broke apart. That was when I realized where we were standing. There was an employee lounge, the manager's office, and bathrooms. It was hardly the place to be discreet and hidden away while making out with Edward.
He heaved a sigh. "We should get going."
"Yeah," I agreed, feeling like I was going to implode. Edward had me so wound up.
He took my hand, and we went back to the door locks. This time, it didn't take him long to decide. He just picked a random deadbolt and never second-guessed it.
If he'd done that shit sooner, we wouldn't have spent nearly an hour and a half in the hardware store.
As we strolled through the aisles to the front cashier, Edward suddenly grabbed me by the arm and pulled me aside.
I looked up at him questioningly.
"Here," he said, sticking a roll of tape in my pants.
"Edward." I shook my head, grabbing at his hands. "No."
"Come on," he said, a mischievous gleam in his eyes. "You might like it."
"I don't need tape."
"What do you need?" he said, looking around the aisle. "We'll steal that."
"Why do we have to steal anything?" I whispered. "I thought you had money."
"Bella," he said, gently kissing my lips. "Trust me."
This plan wasn't going to end well, and I knew that. But I couldn't deny that it excited me.
"Fine," I huffed, grabbing the tape and stuffing it in my pants. I covered it with my shirt and glared. "Happy?"
"Extremely." He smiled, glancing over my head and taking my hand. "Let's go."
The weight of the tape increased as we neared the front checkout. I scanned the place for cameras, knowing that they were on me. My heart was beating fast, thumping against my chest and pulsating in my ears. I felt like every person was staring at me. It was like; they knew that I was stealing tape.
I gripped his hand tightly, needing him to stabilize me. The cashier glanced back and forth between Edward and me. His eyes locked on mine and assessed my forced smile. The nervousness and guilty energy radiated off me, and I was sure he had caught me.
"Have a good day," the cashier mumbled, handing Edward back his change.
"Thanks, man," Edward said far too politely.
The sliding door to my escape was only feet away, and I glanced behind me, expecting security to jump out and tackle me to the floor.
"Be cool, kid," Edward murmured, squeezing my hand.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm my nerves.
I fully allowed myself to breathe when we exited the store and made it back to his car without incident. It came out in one long whoosh.
I pulled out the tape from my pants and stared at it, stunned that I'd stolen something. It was exhilarating. I'd never felt so alive in my whole life.
I grinned over at Edward, spinning the tape around my finger. "Piece of cake."
"Why, aren't you a sexy little thief," he said, sliding his hand up my neck and into my hair.
I bit my lip, aroused by the experienced, and I lunged at him. Our lips met with a fiery passion, no longer contained and unabated. I crawled over the center console and planted my ass in his lap.
He clutched my waist, pushing me down as he lifted his hips. The aching and need in our bodies overpowered logic. I ground into him, creating some wanted friction on the hardness beneath his jeans.
"Fuck," he groaned, kissing me as I rocked my hips.
My fingers were in his hair, tugging at it, eliciting a hiss from him, and I smiled against his lips. His hands moved around my back and body, gripping and pulling at my shirt. I heard a faint ripping noise, and the fabric was torn in the front, stitch by stitch; it slowly came apart.
I didn't care if he tore it to shreds. It wasn't worth stopping this wanton and heady make-out session in his car. Heck, I wouldn't stop if there was a crowd of people watching us. It only fueled my fire more.
"Shit," Edward hissed, breaking the kiss and leaning his forehead against mine. "We need to stop before I fucking take you in the back seat."
"That wouldn't be so bad." I smirked.
"Don't tempt me, kid," he said, lifting me off his lap and putting my ass back in my seat.
He started the engine and tore out of the parking lot, screeching his tires and leaving a trail of rubber before I even had a chance to buckle my seat belt.
I stared down at the tape and rolled its insignificance in my hands. How was it possible for one little object to create so much passion and lust between us? It was like a ticking time bomb waiting to explode. And I couldn't deny the hold over me, the excitement it caused, or even what it had signified to me as a person—not even wanting to admit how much it made me want to do it again and again and again.
My mind was spinning with the possibilities of a bigger game.
Face it, Bella. We are all criminals in one way or another.
Edward was right. We weren't so different after all.