Chapter 23

A/N: Happy Friday! Here's another update. Thank you so much for all your reviews and support. We appreciate them all. Thanks to our Beta and our prereaders. They are awesome and rock so much! Let's hear how Edward's doing.

Songs- In the End by Linkin Park, You Got It Bad by Usher

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EPOV

After thoroughly searching the docks, I stalled, staring out over the water. The sea looked endless, depthless, entirely black, blending effortlessly with the sky. At this particular point, you couldn't really determine where one ended, and the other began, yet that's not precisely what I was trying to achieve.

Actually, I felt utterly lost. A wave of blinding anger with nowhere to vent the rage ripping through my veins claimed my soul. I could hear a foghorn in the distance; only in a weird way, I heard nothing at all. I saw everything—the boats bobbing close by, lights shining off of random decks—yet I saw absolutely nothing. It was hands down the strangest sensation that'd ever consumed me. It was sort of like having an out-of-body experience where you are merely hovering over yourself, in control of everything yet nothing.

Right at this moment, all I could see was blood. The thick, crimson fluid pouring from a body, lying lifeless on the floor, was the only thing that would appease me. That body had Liam's face, and an absolute satisfaction filled me with the image. I had this disturbing illustration of rabid wolves ripping a rabbit apart with sharp, ruthless fangs. A wave of pleasure rippled in my chest, lapping at the rock beating beneath the surface of bone and muscle.

I'm not a sociopath, but at this moment, I can fathom this is how one would feel—pure, bone-deep satisfaction at the prospect of being covered in someone else's blood. I could see myself as if looking at my reflection through a mirror with blood dripping down my chest and coating my teeth. As disturbing as this picture should be, all I could feel was my chest welling with determination. I would see this come to fruition, and I will gleefully be holding the knife.

The dock bobbed in the water as Emmett comes to stand next to me. As always, I felt his sharp eyes digging into my skin with a question. Questions I had no ready answers for, and that pissed me off to no end. The last thing I wanted to feel was this helplessness, and the more powerless I felt, the angrier I seemed to get. "I want to choke that bastard until his eyes pop from his skull."

Emmett merely nodded at me, seeming to understand this ruthless need for blood. "Maybe we should head out to Seamus's and start looking for answers there."

I thought over his suggestion, chewing a hole right through my lip until the metallic taste of copper filled my mouth. While the blood tantalized my taste buds on many different levels, the realization that it was my own lessened the appeal. "That would be great in theory, but we still have to weed out the ones we can't trust. I want Liam's head on a spike but not at the risk of Bella's or my own." Kicking the boards beneath my feet, I looked in both directions as I considered my next move. "There's only one way to weed out the disloyal. Call Connell, Adrian, and Marx and tell them we're looking for Seamus and to meet us at his crib. I suppose whoever doesn't show is in this with Liam."

I barely finished my statement before Emmett withdrew his phone and began the task. I vaguely listened to his calls as we crossed the boardwalk back to the SUV. I cast a look over my shoulder to where Seamus usually kept his yacht, but the slip is empty. Perhaps he had gone back to Ireland. I just couldn't imagine him doing so without giving me a heads up.

My fingers tightened over the butt of my gun as Bella's features drifted into my mind. Her sparkling green eyes were full of life and sass. That fucking mouth, known now to me for her lippy responses, and I already knew if she spoke to Liam how she did me on numerous occasions, well—it wasn't going to bode well for her. I closed my eyes, trying to disengage the visions of the fucking dick hitting her, yet I already knew this to be happening.

"Now what?" Emmett wanted to know, tossing his gun on the dashboard as he stuck the key in the ignition and started the truck.

"Go to Seamus's, and we ferret out the mole. God rest the souls who don't show up." I meant this to the depths of my being; whoever didn't come to locate Seamus showed their colors on more levels than just one.

The pounding was back in my temples. I rubbed vigorously to rid myself of the relentless beating that's taken up permanent residence in my head. Digging through the center console, I pulled the bottle of aspirin from the compartment and downed a handful. Finally, I laid my head back against the headrest, staring sightlessly out the window.

All I could see at this point was Bella's terrified expression as Liam put her on her knees. While there had been horror evident in her eyes, I couldn't dispute her inner strength, and I fervently prayed she maintained some rational sense while dealing with the man raised as my cousin. Even though I needed her to be healthy, the fucking weakness love brought was clamoring through my chest. The weakness that told me how much I did fucking care about Bella, the woman who'd stormed into my world and rocked the foundation of my life.

Love.

Months ago, I would've laughed at the notion or assumption. Months ago, I would've said I wasn't capable of the emotion. Hell, to an extent, I still wasn't. This feeling—these sensations burning in my chest were for one person … one.

Bella. She would be the only one to receive an ounce of my affection. Even now, I wanted to hold her in my arms … I wanted to see the laughter shining in her eyes, and hear the sound filling my room, but … but I imagined after this … that laughter would be harder to come by, and that pissed me off. Liam had stolen part of her innocence she would never get back, and even if she managed to harness the terror, there would always be shadows lingering on the side. Shadows that would threaten to steal her joy at a moment's notice and be merciless, all-consuming.

Even while our time together was laced with deception, there were things a person couldn't fake. Nothing about Bella's response to me had been artificial. I could easily lump all of her lies together and say she was trying to deceive me, but I didn't feel completely betrayed. The woman was far too innocent for what it took to blindside or blackmail someone. I scoffed at the thought. Why I should place such faith in another was entirely beyond me.

Perhaps it was stupidity, but more than that, I surmised it was that love emotion Emmett had mentioned. I glared in his direction, not entirely pleased by the realization but knowing it to be true. "You know, sometimes I could just hit you in the mouth."

Startled, his gaze shifted from the road with a slight tip to his lips, almost in a grin. "What the fuck are you prattling about?"

"I'm just sayin'. Sometimes I want to fucking punch you, probably break my damn knuckles … that's the only reason I'm not." I chuckled as I looked away, yet I found little humor in the situation. "Fucking love … what the hell do I know about love?"

"Don't go getting all sour, asshole." Emmett's gaze darted between me and the road. "It's not all bad. This is just an extra shitty situation."

"Yeah, one I foresaw coming. Should've kept Bella away from me," I stated with conviction. "There can be no good outcome for this. You do realize that, right? Love is going to be the death of me, or … God forbid, that woman's soul. I could handle dying to prevent whatever is in store, but I can't … can't see her losing her soul. She'll be a completely different person after this."

"Will you love her any less for it?"

The question pissed me off on a whole new level. "Of course, I wouldn't love Bella any less … might love you less if you keep shooting off your fucking mouth."

"Are you saying you love me?" Emmett wanted to know. A goofy fucking expression claimed his face, and he reached over as if to run his hand over my head.

"If you fucking touch me, I will shoot you," I grumble, dodging his hand. "Just fucking drive the fucking truck, Em."

Thirty minutes later, we pulled into Seamus's driveway to find three trucks sitting in the shadows. With guns in hand, we pushed free from the truck, and I straighten my clothing, stepping in line with Emmett as we approached the nearly hidden vehicles. In unison, three figures stepped into the lights provided by the trucks left running.

Connell, Boden, and Marx came to stand before Emmett and me. Gesturing to Seamus's mansion, I asked, "Any sign of the boss?"

"Haven't heard a word from him in days," Connell acknowledged with a quizzical brow. His hand pushed through reddish-blond locks as he contemplated the last time he'd actually heard from Seamus. "Probably been close to three weeks since he's called. Liam said …"

"Liam," I hissed as rage burned anew. "He's a fucking sack of horse shit."

Three sets of eyes widened as the brothers studied me. I could feel the venom dripping from my teeth, and the bitter essence of fury tasted sweet. "Liam has been taking liberties. Liberties he has no business taking. Seamus is gone … I assume we'll be finding his body, which means Liam killed my brother. I won't speculate about why he'd do this, but I do know one thing. I want the motherfucker's head on a spike."

Several heads bobbed in agreement. Boden saying, "If he killed the boss … he's toast. Family doesn't kill family."

"Well, yes, he's now responsible for killing my brother, unless someone here can produce Seamus, I'm going to assume …" I broke off, studying the faces around me, my knuckles going white with the grip I maintained on the gun. "Until we know what the hell is going on, I'll take control of this organization. Boden, Marx, find fucking Liam and, apparently, Adrian. Has anyone seen Adrian?"

A collective shake of their heads confirmed what I'd already suspected. "Another betrayal. When you find them … keep them alive. I have a special treat in store for them. As for Liam … that motherfucker is mine, and I have five hundred K for the one who locates him. Connell …"

"Yeah, boss," he answered, his chin lifting and his jaw tightening. "What are the orders?"

Pride filled my chest as Connell recognized my leadership without question. "Finn … my driver was shot tonight by our good buddy Liam. I need you to retrieve his body and make sure it gets back to his family. Tell them to spare no expense for his burial, and all costs will be covered."

"Sure thing," He nodded in acceptance.

"Everyone has their orders. I want to know Liam's location as soon as someone even speculates where the cocksucker is." With a lethal glare at those around me, I snarled as I backed away. "Find him."

DS

It'd been two days, and there'd been no word. I actually received calls from everyone just to inform me there'd been no new intel. With my hand resting against the shower wall, I held myself upright as the scalding hot water cascaded over exhausted muscles, yet nothing provided me the relaxation I sought.

At the current moment, my stomach was so twisted I could barely manage a couple of sips of water, and I'd had even less sleep. Right now, I was running on pure adrenaline, and nothing offered peace.

My lashes fell closed, and I rolled my head on my shoulders, letting the water pound into my face, and while under the mist, my eyes popped open. All of a sudden, I felt a blast of unexpected pain ricochet through my jaw, my bottom lip feeling as if it'd just been split. The sting was prominent and real. Confusion coursed through me as my hand lifted to my jaw, and my bottom lip felt swollen, throbbing as if someone had just decked me in the mouth.

Ludicrous. It was foolish even to contemplate the possibility, but there was no other explanation. Grabbing the knobs to the shower, I turned the water off and yanked the towel from the rack. Just as I was headed into my room, I felt cold fingers close around my throat, cutting off my air.

Perhaps it was a lack of sleep and food deprivation, but I didn't think so. Was I so attuned to Bella I could feel her pain? It sounded utterly ridiculous. You couldn't feel someone else being beaten, but there was simply no other explanation for it.

Finally, I reached my closet as my vision blurred and air rushed back into my lungs. Frustration and anger welled deep, causing me to punch the wall to alleviate the brick in my chest. Pain speared through my knuckles and jolted up my arm, which only managed to ignite my temper all over again.

Feeling no pain, I set out to destroy everything in my path, leaving my room in shambles, clothes ripped and thrown from their hangers, bedding shredded, and lamps smashed against the wall. When I came back to, I stood naked in the middle of the room, heaving lungfuls of air, seeking a calm I didn't feel. I glanced at the bed I'd shared with Bella; feathers from my pillows floated through the air, yet the craze enveloping me was far from appeased.

Head hanging, I manage to dress and grab my gun. I just couldn't sit around this fucking house with my thumbs up my ass. With this thought in mind, I headed out and climbed into the Miata. I barely saw anything in my path as I raced toward DarkStrip at a breakneck speed, relishing the feel of the wind slamming into my face, making it hard to breathe.

Honestly, at this particular moment, I didn't want to breathe. Hell, I even held the lung full of air until my face felt as if it would explode. The pain ripped through my chest, diminishing some of the insanity threatening to swallow me whole.

I wanted her back. I needed her back. With this singular thought singing a chorus in my head, I flew into my parking space at DarkStrip. Emmett was already here and met me at the door as I entered the club. Without a word spoken between us, we headed down the long narrow hallway to my office, and as I opened the door, I felt his hand on my shoulder. "There's an envelope on your desk, delivered by FedEx. Rose said they made her sign for it."

I spied the package through narrow slits and wandered slowly toward my desk. The closer I came to it, the feeling of dread clamping around my innards tightened, and a wave of nausea rippled through my gut. Suddenly, my fingers felt icy as I reached for it and tore the tab open. Delving inside, the sharp points of portrait paper jabbed beneath my nails, and instantly, I went rigid.

I already knew what this was before I withdrew my hand, yet still, I'm unprepared for the sight that greeted me. Fire erupted in my lungs and throat as my gaze fell to rest on the pictures. Pictures. Photos—of Bella. Pictures of her tied up and gagged. Pictures of her face, broken and bleeding. Images of horror glistening in her green eyes.

Seeing the last photo, I flung the pictures across the room, only satisfied when they drifted through the air, like cascading flyers over a bridge. Heaving as bile climbed my throat, I made the mistake of looking inside the envelope.

Tied together with a silken ribbon was a lock of nearly black hair. That's the last thing I saw before everything went red. The next thing I knew, I'm sitting at my desk with the office in shambles, resembling my bedroom before I left. Emmett stood to the side, studying me as if I'd gone mad—which to some degree I had. Vaguely aware of my surroundings, I turned my attention to the monitors overlooking the club.

"What are those motherfuckers doing here?"

Dylan and Charlie fucking Swan.

Before they could even finish asking for, I presumed, me, I leaped from my seat and slammed through the door. Right in front of at least fifty spectators, I pinned the boy to the wall by his throat with the promise of breaking his scrawny little neck. Emmett, my trusted sidekick, put Charlie right next to him against the same wall.

Snarling, I growled, "What the fuck are you doing here?" Leaning in close to his face, I continued. "Didn't finish the job the first time? Come to make sure the bullet goes into my head, you little prick?"

"If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I can shoot the eye straight out of a bird, ain't no crack shot." Dylan sputtered for breath as he struggled against my hold. In reflex, I tightened my grip, yet the little shit didn't seem remotely scared. "I came to tell you … tell you … Bella. She told me to come, but—but you need all the information."

"What the fuck are you doing here, Swan? We don't let people working with our rivals in DarkStrip," Emmett seethed, "and it better be good. Might just stick you in a river upstate."

"W-with the kid," Charlie gulped against Emmett's bear paw. "They have my daughter … do-don't want her hurt."

With a quick glance around at the occupants filling the bar, I turned Dylan toward the hallway and helped him walk quickly to my office, Emmett following close behind with Charlie in tow. Slamming his ass down on the couch, I yanked my gun out and squared it with his forehead. "Start fucking speaking, and do it quickly. One fucking stutter, and I will blow your head off."

Dylan didn't even pretend to be cocky, his lips parting as he poured out the whole twisted fucking story. "I-I'm Dylan Brennan. I've been working with my dad for the last two years, supposed to be the new hitman after I was sent to take you out. I-I-I always looked up to him until he betrayed his own. I can't run with an organization like that, and so I aimed wide on purpose. Like I said, could've shot you," he indicated Emmett at my side, saying, "Him too. Could've shot you both, b-but … Seamus told Dad he was going back to Ireland—wanted to turn the Celtics over to you—being you were his brother. D-dad was pissed, came up behind Seamus, and snuffed him. Said the Celtics were going to stay with blood—not some fostered gun puppet."

As I listened to the tale unfold, I grew still, learning Seamus's plans and his apparent demise in one fell swoop. By the merest of threads, I managed to listen as Dylan related the story. "Dad set you up, saying he was putting a hit on my head, saying I was a Swan. I was supposed to take you out—but as I said—loyalty means everything. Seamus was a better man than my dad, and Seamus's death doesn't diminish that fact. He got into cahoots with the Italians—wants to take down all the Celtics—least the ones still resisting. He took Bella … She's in an abandoned house half a block from the docks. Said-said he wanted you to suffer before you die … what better way than to take the pussy off your tongue."

My gun never wavered as the kid finished speaking. "Charlie fucking Swan … spill the truth or your guts. Your choice."

"B-been working with the Italians. Needed the extra cash. They followed me to Bella's the night she went missing. They cornered me after I left—wanted me to nab her for them. Seeing as she was sleeping with a hitman—I might not give a shit what happened to her. She's my daughter—I love her. I-I told them to go to hell, b-but Alec's with Liam. Been working together for a while; I just didn't realize how involved my daughter was until now. N-need ya t' get her back. They have several people guarding the house. Had Dylan take me there. All the Italians and a guy named Adrian."

My tongue tingled as the ripe flavor of copper coated my teeth. I'd nearly bitten a hole straight through my cheek, my lips lifting in a snarl. I grabbed Dylan by the hair on his head and yanked him upright. "Take me to Bella, and if she's dead … so are you."

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A/N: So, there you go. The mystery has been solved and they are off to save Bella. How do we feel? What do you think about the reveal of how this whole perfect storm came together? Let us know and leave a review. Until Monday. Later lovelies!