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-One-

It happened fast. The gun discharged with a loud boom. It reverberated off the surrounding trees, silencing the joyous birds and causing this painful ringing in my ears. The force of the recoil was powerful; it buckled my elbows and slammed my body back into Edward's chest. He wrapped his arms around my waist, keeping me steady and upright.

The spray of the sticky dampness hitting my face told me what I already knew: Caius was dead.

I killed him with a double-barrel shotgun.

Two bullets ripped through his skull and obliterated it into tiny fragments. There was no more praying or whispers or pleads, just silence. He had left this world as a mess for someone to clean up.

These thoughts were callous and uncharacteristic of me.

I'd just executed a man, flawed or not, with no qualms for his life, and I wasn't upset or sorry. Instead, when my finger squeezed the trigger, I felt nothing but pure adrenaline. It circulated through my blood, pumping and coursing through my veins, out of control, like a freight train.

All the repressed anger over Renee, Phil, and the fucking senator had been building and building until it finally exploded in my hands, driving me to murder on a beautiful October day.

The innocent doe-eyed Bella of yesterday was gone.

"Edward?" I whispered, letting the murder weapon slip from my fingers and drop to the ground. It landed at my feet with a soft thump.

"Ah, fuck," he cursed and spun my body around. "I'm right here, Baby, alright? Just relax for a second. Don't move."

I nodded and kept my eyes closed as he cleaned the blood from my face and legs with a thin cloth. I didn't concern myself with how the rag materialized. I was just grateful for it.

"He's dead. I shot him, Edward," I said in disbelief.

"Yeah, you wasted his ass, all right," he said as he moved up my body, wiping down my arms and neck. He gently moved the fabric over my eyelids and sighed. "Jesus Christ, what a fucking mess."

"It's that bad, yeah?"

He laughed. "Yeah, it's that fucking bad, but what did you expect, kid? It's like taking a God damned sledge hammer to a watermelon."

The mental image wasn't pretty, and I groaned. "Ugh, that's disgusting."

The sour look on my face must've been comical because he laughed even harder.

"Yeah, no fucking shit." He palmed the sides of my face and pulled me into him. He was so close and warm. I could smell the peppermint on his breath. "Alright, you can open your eyes now."

Grasping a hold of his wrists to keep me steady, I opened my eyes and gasped aloud at the intensity of his deep green irises staring back at me.

There wasn't a drop of blood on him.

He was spotless and perfect.

"Well, hello there, killer," he said with a crooked and devilish smirk.

He was teasing, but the word 'killer' struck a chord in me, and I tried to hide how much I enjoyed the term. However, it came out as a painful grimace. It was misleading, and I wanted to fix it with a half-hearted smile. But unfortunately, my old man saw through me, so my gaze deviated from his face and chest.

I focused on the good.

Edward had removed his black t-shirt and used it to wipe the blood off me. It was discarded and crumpled on the ground now. He wasn't shirtless, unfortunately, but the wife-beater tank did little to cover up the tattoos. They were exposed and glorious.

I wanted to kiss every piece of ink on his skin.

"Hey, don't do that," he said, redirecting my attention back to his face. He bent down and searched my eyes. "Do you know how brave you are?"

"I don't feel brave. It's not like I could've done any of it without you."

Edward was the devil who resided inside me, feeding and coaxing my urge to sin.

He jerked away and glared. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

I sighed, hating that I had to point out the obvious. "You were holding me the whole time."

"Yeah, so what? You asked me not to let you go and I didn't. I was being a supportive boyfriend."

I fought back a smile and shook my head. "I closed my eyes like a chicken. I couldn't even…."

"None of that shit matters, Bella. It takes a lot of fucking guts to pull the trigger. Believe me. You did good, kid."

"I did—" I started to say, and he quickly clasped his hand over my mouth to silence me.

"Yeah, yeah, I know, you did well." He rolled his eyes and laughed. "Fucking smartass."

I pulled his hand away and clutched it to my chest. "Do you really think I'm brave?"

"You're damn right, I do. That shit that you just did?" Edward said, gesturing towards the mess in the grass with a flick of his wrist. "It was brave as fuck. Not too many people can do that."

I shrugged. "Yeah, maybe."

"You really have no idea, do you?" he huffed and looked away.

"I have no idea about what?" I asked, placing my hands on his shoulders and rising to my tiptoes.

He turned back to me with this crazed look in his eyes. "Do you really fucking not see it?"

"What are you talking about? See what?"

I was frustrated.

"You don't see how...fuck it!" He said, crashing his lips to mine.

It was rash and passionate, and it threw me off guard. He broke the kiss to bend down and pick me up. I jumped into his arms and wrapped my legs around his waist. He placed his hands on my ass and smiled, tilting his head back and seeking out my lips again.

I grabbed fistfuls of his hair, tugging and yanking at it as I bent down to kiss him. "Oh, babe."

He groaned and opened his mouth to me. I pressed my breasts into his chest, needing to feel him, but never able to get close enough.

Stumbling back a few steps, he placed distance between us and the gruesome crime. His lips wandered away from mine. He kissed along my jaw and down to my neck, nipping at it with his teeth. He even sucked the flesh into his mouth, marking his territory on my throat.

"Mine," he hissed, biting down hard.

"Always," I said, closing my eyes as my head lulled to the side, enjoying how his tongue rolled over my heated skin.

Shifting my ass up and getting a better hold on it, he buried his face in the crook of my neck. He rocked our bodies back and forth. We stood there for a moment, quiet and reflective, as the cool breeze picked up my hair and swirled it around, wrapping us in its thick strands.

"Don't see how fucking proud I am of you?" He whispered, his breaths tickling my skin.

His words hit me hard, and treacherous tears sprung from my eyes. It was silly to be this fucking emotional over such a simple statement, but it was the first time I'd done something right in Edward's eyes. I wasn't just a hassle to him or some lovesick school girl following him around, but an actual ally and a partner-in-crime.

We were equals.

"I love you," I spoke softly, hugging him tighter as the stupid tears rolled down my face and fell to Edward's bare shoulder.

He pulled away and looked up at me, forehead wrinkled with worry. "Bella, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm wonderful. Perfect, even," I answered, swallowing back my emotion and dodging Edward's gaze.

"Bullshit," he said, setting me back down on my feet. He brushed away the strands of hair from my sticky cheeks. "Then why in the fuck are you crying? Is it me? Did I do something?"

I sniffed, shaking my head and waving him off. "No, Baby, you didn't do anything. I'm just being stupid, okay? I promise. It's nothing."

"You're not upset over that, are you?" he jerked his head towards the brutality behind me.

"No, oh, God no, it's not that."

"Fuck!" he interrupted, staggering back and running his hands through his hair. "I pushed you too soon, didn't I?"

"No!" I shouted, grabbing him by the shirt and closing the distance he was creating. "Of course not, don't…No, I was ready, Edward."

"Then what is it? Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing's wrong, it's just, um, my..." I paused, not wanting to admit how much I craved his approval and respect, "my emotions are running high right now, I guess."

He nodded, rubbing his hands up and down my arms to generate warmth on my goose-fleshed skin. "Yeah, well, you seem to be handling it a lot better than I did."

"Really? Did you cry, too?" I teased.

"No, not quite, but, uh, I did puke."

My eyes widened. "You puked?"

There was no ill feeling rumbling in my stomach. There was no inner turmoil or regrets wreaking havoc on my psyche. I was good, a little hungry, but overall, I was fine. That surprised me—and terrified me.

He chuckled. "Yeah, I took one look at the dude's blown off head, brain bits plastered all over fucking concrete, and lost it."

"And here I thought you were some badass criminal," I said, playfully shoving him in the shoulder.

He narrowed his eyes at me. "What the fuck do you know, huh? You didn't even look."

A light bulb went off in my head.

"You know what, you're right," I said, turning my heel to scope out the damage. "It's time to pull off that Band-Aid."

"Uh, Baby," Edward said, grabbing my arm and pulling me back, "I wouldn't if I were you."

"I think I can handle a little blood, Edward."

"A little blood, huh?" he scoffed. "You have no idea."

I shook him off. "We'll see, won't we?"

"God damn it, Bella," he growled, following me as I stalked toward a lifeless Caius. "You don't have to prove anything to me."

"I'm not!" I said over my shoulder, mind still set and determined, which was true. I wasn't trying to prove anything to Edward. My lack of feelings toward killing Caius bothered me. I wanted to prove that I wasn't this heartless person and was normal—albeit crazy, somewhat impulsive, but a regular eighteen-year-old girl, nonetheless.

In hindsight, it was not one of my wisest decisions.

The tall and swaying grass masked the trauma of Caius' injuries. I didn't see what the shotgun had done to his skull until I was beside him. It stopped me short, and my eyes roamed over the chaos of the murder. It wasn't pretty—nor was it distinguishable.

From the shoulders up, it looked like grounded-up hamburger meat. Brain and blood were coagulated and splattered all around the body. The golden wheat was stained a deep red and forever tainted by violence. He was nothing but a headless corpse—but even seeing that wasn't what threw me over the edge. The top of his spine dangled out of the hole in his neck. It made everything fade to black as waves of nausea washed over me.

"I think I'm going to be sick," I muttered, covering my mouth and running towards the tree line.

I barely made it there in time before puking up everything that was in my stomach. There wasn't much there, and the breakfast from earlier was digested and nonexistent. It turned into a painful dry heave.

It served me right. Edward warned me, but I just had to fucking look for myself—like a dumbass.

"Why don't you ever listen to me?"

Edward was at my side, and I cringed, not wanting him to see me like this. I almost pushed him away, but, as it turns out, my need for him was a lot stronger than my need for humility.

"Jesus, kid," he said, rubbing my back in circular motions, "what am I going to do with you?"

I stood up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. "Tolerate my craziness, I suppose."

He reached into his pocket and handed me a piece of gum. "Yeah, well, your craziness is not the problem. It's that stubborn head of yours. It makes me think that I'm the one who's fucking nuts for putting up with you. But what am I supposed to do, huh? Dump you?"

I frowned at the thought.

"Nah," he said, gripping me by the back of the neck with both hands. Then, he lowered his head, got eye-level with me, and smirked. "You may be a pain in the ass, Swan, but you're mine."

"Oh, that's so sweet," I said with an exaggerated eye roll.

He laughed, throwing his arm around my neck. "Come on, badass, now I'm going to teach you how to get rid of a body."