Thanks to Fyrebyrd, Gabby1017, and 2brown-eyes for pre-reading this one, and to my beta, SunflowerFran. I fiddled a bit with this one after I got it back, so please remember, all mistakes are mine.

Edward

As Bella rises from the booth, I shoot Emmett a look and tilt my head toward the door. "Bring it around back," I mouth. He nods and heads for the exit.

I sit back in my seat and watch as my wife walks toward the ladies' room, her arms wrapped around herself. It's taking all my self-restraint not to turn to the man sitting across from me and blow his head off. When she disappears from my sight and into the restroom, my eyes find Carlisle's. They're the eyes of a stranger. Everything I've learned in the last few days tells me I never really knew him at all.

"So, when exactly is my next grandchild due?"

I chuckle, and my smile morphs into something ... other. "If you think for one second you'll be a part of their life after the stunt you pulled, you're even crazier than I thought you were," I say through gritted teeth.

We stare at each other for an indeterminate amount of time, neither of us willing to look away.

"Why? Why did you do it? And don't give me the bullshit reason of needing to get my attention."

"Why is that so hard to believe? You weren't coming home, and I didn't know what else to do to find your brother."

"So you sent a gun-wielding goon to snatch my daughter out of her bed?" My voice rises as my fingers twitch with the need to grab my Glock.

"I told you, my gut is telling me you know where he is. What did you expect me to do? I need to find your brother, and I was desperate."

"Need to find ..." I look away and shake my head, disgusted with this man's obsession with protecting that piece of shit. "You know, you keep saying that; that you were desperate." I turn back to him. "But I don't give a fuck how desperate you are, that's my daughter," I say, roughly jabbing my thumb at my chest before pointing down the hall. "And my pregnant wife was held at gunpoint, so excuse me if I don't have any sympathy for you and your missing waste of space son."

"I didn't know he'd pull a gun on—"

"Cut the bullshit, Carlisle. We both know when you give an order like that they'll do it by any means necessary. They don't give a shit what they have to do to follow through with it; including using a gun on a woman and child."

As we continue to stare each other down, Bella returns to the table. I reach for her hand without looking away from my father.

"I'm pretty sure the conversation we need to have would be better had elsewhere."

With resignation in his eyes, Carlisle nods once in agreement, and Bella squeezes my fingers with hers. He and I rise from our seats, and one of the men loyal to my father steps to his side as if he materialized from thin air. I meet his eyes and address him.

"Your services won't be needed this afternoon, Sam. We'll make sure he makes it home."

He and Carlisle exchange a look, and my father waves him off. "It's fine, Sam. This is a family matter."

"You're sure, Carlisle?" Sam glances in my direction before looking back at my father.

"I'm sure."

"Okay then. Call if you need me."

I watch as he walks out the front door before turning to face my father. "Shall we?" I motion toward the rear of the pub, in the direction of the back door, and Carlisle takes the lead.

When we finally make it outside, the bright afternoon sunlight is blinding after being in the dim light of the bar, and I slip my Ray-Bans from my pocket. When I get them on, Carlisle is still squinting at the midday sun, and I take advantage the of opportunity, pulling back and punching him square in the jaw.

Startled, Bella covers her mouth, her hands muffling a scream.

"That was for scaring my wife. Consider yourself lucky I didn't put a bullet through your head," I say close to his ear. What he doesn't know is that option isn't off the table. I just can't risk doing it in broad daylight in the alley behind my pub.

He looks at me with anger burning in his eyes as he holds his palm against his jaw.

"But, don't worry; I'm not quite done with you." I turn to my brother. "Make sure dear, old Da isn't carrying any weapons. Wouldn't want him to get any ideas."

Emmett strips Carlisle of his gun as I help Bella into the backseat. When she's safely inside, I turn to my father. "Now, get in the car."

With Emmett behind the driver's seat and Carlisle in the passenger seat, Bella sits beside me, our hands gripped onto each other's. The fleeting glances from my brother in the review mirror tell me he's not sure what the plan is. The trouble is, we didn't have a game plan when we arrived at the pub; we only needed to find out where Kaitlin was. And now that Carlisle's with us, I'm even less prepared for what our next step should be. The only thing I do know is the moment I'm sure Kaitlin is safe, Carlisle's numbered breaths will have run out.

"Ed?" Emmett asks from the front seat. His eyes flash away from the mirror, and he nods toward the signs along the road. The turnoff for 93 is coming up, and I know he's asking me if we're taking him out to Quincy.

I shake my head and squeeze Bella's hand. There are a lot of things Bella knows about me and my business, but there are sides of me she can't ever see. And besides, I don't think I'd be able to hold back on killing him right away if we were in the house in Quincy or out on the water, and we need answers. No, Bella deserves answers.

"Just head to the house, Em."

He nods, and the rest of the drive is quiet. As the road thumps beneath us, and we get closer to our destination, questions begin to eat at me. One that won't stop rolling around in my head is who actually took my daughter.

"Who did you send, Carlisle?" I ask. "Who's the one that held the gun on my little girl and my pregnant wife?"

"It wasn't anyone you know." He never turns to me, his focus on the scenery passing us by as we drive.

"Try me, asshole."

He sighs. "It was a man named Jared Cameron."

I nod and add one more to my mental list, Caius Voltolini another near the top for putting out the hit on Charlie. I owe at least that much to Bella.

When we pull up to the house, Emmett pulls us around to the back, parking inside the garage. Tension is high as we all walk inside, and Carlisle wordlessly leads us to his study. I walk past him and take the seat behind his desk. My superficial show of control is just to fuck with him.

He studies me as he sits in the chair across from me. In my periphery, I see Bella standing next to Emmett, near the closed door, but I don't take my eyes off my father. His are narrowed at me, and I can only guess what he's thinking.

"So, why all the trouble to find and save your son, Carlisle? What was so special about Jasper?"

"He's my son, my firstborn. I don't have to explain myself to you." His defensive tone makes me bristle.

"And that excuses his actions over the last, what, almost twenty years?"

"No, of course not," he scoffs.

"Then explain to me why you've put so much effort into making sure your bastard son, born to Aro Voltolini's teenaged daughter, has his slate wiped clean, over and over. Why he's so fucking important, you'd overlook all the shit he's done?"

I watch as realization washes over him, the color draining right along with it. To know the secret you've managed to keep for nearly half your life has been exposed must pinch just a little. His eyes flash to his desk, to an ornate box at the edge, before looking back to me.

One thing he taught me, many years ago, was a desperate man will do anything, go to any lengths, to get out of a dire situation. The men that have been on the other end of my gun, save my brother, have all either begged for their lives or attempted some bullshit hero maneuver to free themselves. Even when outnumbered, some would fight or try to shoot themselves out of the jam they were in. And in all those cases, I could see it in their eyes the moment their resolve was made. And as I study the man before me, I can see the switch flip.

His focus narrows on the box, his forehead begins to sweat, and his breathing accelerates as his fingers subconsciously flex. But age and foresight are on my side, and I'm on my feet and have my gun drawn and trained on him as his ass leaves his seat and before he can reach his target.

"Did you really think you could take all of us, old man?" I ask as I walk around the desk to lean on the edge. "You're more stupid than I thought."

"Where the fuck is my son?" he screams, his calm facade fading fast.

"Start talking, Carlisle," I say, ignoring his outburst. "Explain to us why it's been so important to keep this secret for so long; why Jasper has been so important."

Silence stretches between us as the seconds tick by, his narrowed gaze fixed on me.

"I really cared for Jane ... loved her," he finally says. "I was already married to your mother, but even if I hadn't been, we never would have been able to be together. Aro never would have allowed it. Never mind that she was so young, and I was ..." He shakes his head. "I lied to so many people to keep her a secret, it just became too much to bear when she got pregnant. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep them both, but I wanted my child. I made a deal with Marcus to come for the baby when it was born, but I had to swear to him no harm would come to Jasper." His eyes drop to his lap. "He threatened Jane's life, my family, my wife, if anything happened to Jasper, so I couldn't risk their lives for his, no matter how many times he screwed up."

I shake my head in disbelief. If only he knew Marcus really doesn't give a flying fuck about what happened to Jasper; that they were just idle threats.

"And keeping it from Ma?" I ask my tone terse.

His head pops up. "I love your mother, and I know my infidelity would kill her. She doesn't deserve that."

"But Bella deserved to have her mother taken from her so you could keep your secret hidden; because you couldn't keep your dick in your pants?" I do my best to ignore my wife across the room, curled into my brother's side, crying.

His eyes widen, and his mouth pops open. "What? How did you—"

"It's amazing what can happen when you're given all the pieces to the puzzle, and all you need is time to put them together." I let my words hang between us for a minute. "So, tell me, Da," I say in a low voice, "is it true? Did you kill Renee Swan because you couldn't risk your secrets coming out?"

His mouth opens and closes like a fish gasping for air, and it only irritates the fuck out of me. "Answer me, damnit!" I yell as I get to my feet, towering over him. "Did you kill Bella's mother?" I let the anger overtake me as I pistol whip the man who gave me life. He tries to stand, to defend himself, but I don't give him a chance.

His arms cover his head as he tries in vain to protect himself. "Stop! Stop! Yes, I killed her. But I didn't know Bella would be part of our family someday," he screams. "I didn't know!"

My blows stop as I plop my ass back on the edge of the desk, my chest heaving from the pent-up rage still coursing through me.

"So, what? You're sorry because you got caught? Or because it was Bella's mother, it makes it any worse? What? Explain it to me, Carlisle. Explain how you can go from being a married businessman to sleeping with a feckin teenager, stealing her baby, then murdering a friend of your wife's because she figured out the shit you were up to. And then spending the next thirty-five years covering it all up!"

"I just ... I couldn't ... I didn't ..." The weight of his confessions finally becomes too much, and he breaks down into sobs. They're only matched by the sounds coming from my wife.

My need to go to her is overwhelming, but I don't dare take my eyes off him. Even in his anguished state, I know he could turn on us and do something to hurt Bella, and I won't take that chance. So I motion her over, and she comes willingly, my arms wrapping around her as hers circle around me.

Her tears have slowed, but the blank look in her eyes is scaring me.

"Bella?" I ask, worried this all might have been too much. She doesn't answer me. Instead, she stares at my father, the man whose actions started a chain reaction of misery for her.

"How?" Her voice cracks, raspy from all the crying she's done in the last few days. "All I want to know is how did my mother ever cross paths with Jane Mancini? I don't see how she could have just wandered into a random nursing home in Sicily and happened upon a woman you had an affair with. Explain it to me, Carlisle."

I hold her close as we wait for him to speak. And when he finally does, her final question is answered.

"She knew," he says, his voice low.

I kick at his foot. "Speak up!" I yell. "And look at my wife when you do. You owe her at least that feckin' much."

"She knew before they left for their trip. At the time, I didn't know how, but she did. I found out later, after her ... death, how."

Bella tenses beside me, her grip around my middle tightening.

"She um ..." Carlisle clears his throat. "Renee kept a diary. When she came to me to tell me she knew of my indiscretion and that she would go to Esme with what she found out if I didn't tell her myself, she mentioned keeping it. It was for Esme to have if anything happened to her, and that Charlie would make sure she knew about it. So I sent over one of my men during ... " He clears his throat. "During her funeral to find it."

"What did it say?" Her voice wavers. She's trying so hard to be strong, but I don't know how much more Bella can take.

His eyes flash to mine, and I stare down at him, my own eyes cold and narrowed. "Tell her."

He sighs and his shoulders slump, probably knowing he's getting closer to the end of the line. "Renee was friends with Esme, but she also kept in touch with a girl she knew in school, Chelsea, who just happened to be dating Demetri Voltolini. At that time, I was seeing Jane on the sly, but apparently, our meetings weren't as secret as I thought they were. Jane had been talking with Chelsea about me the entire time, getting advice, since her mother wasn't around. Chelsea had a new baby, a baby that wasn't Demetri's, so—"

"Maria?" Bella asks.

He nods. "Maria. So Jane went to her to ask her questions."

"And my mother was in touch with Chelsea?" Bella concludes.

Again, he nods. "They were in touch. And when Esme started questioning things, worried I'd been having an affair, Renee put some of the puzzle pieces together and asked Chelsea specifically what she knew. Over the years, Chelsea had discussed her nephew, the one she'd never laid eyes on, and what she knew about his father and the circumstances surrounding his birth. Renee knew when Jasper was born, so she made the connection and figured it out. She used their trip to Sicily to dig deeper."

The room is silent for a long while, everyone mulling over details of my father's betrayal; a betrayal that cost so many so much.

"Is that why Demetri cut ties with his family?" Bella asks out of the blue. "Why he's been estranged all these years?"

"Yes. It seems Demetri Voltolini has a moral compass the rest of his family is lacking. From what I gathered from your mother's diary, Chelsea told her it was just too much for him that his cousin's child was ripped from her arms before she was shot in the back. She detailed quite a few of the conversations she had with Chelsea, leading up to their trip."

"Where is it?" she asks, looking him straight in the eye.

"Where's what?"

"Her diary."

"In my safe. For whatever reason, I couldn't bring myself to destroy it." His gaze drops to his lap.

"I want it," she says, her voice empty.

"Of course. It's yours," he says, not even bothering to face her. To me, it's the least he could have done, give her the respect of looking her in the eye. It's just one more thing to add to his list of sins.

"Emmett?" I ask, motioning to the framed picture covering Carlisle's wall safe.

"Yeah, I'm on it." And he is. Carlisle rattles off the combination, and the safe is open in seconds.

Buried amongst stacks of cash and files of undoubtedly pertinent information, is a soft, leather-bound book. Worn by use and age, its appearance isn't imposing. Rather, it's almost as if her warm presence is here with us, in this room. And when Emmett hands it to Bella, her trembling hands grasp it like it's a life preserver in the storm her life has become.

I wait to see if she has anything to say, any final words for the man sitting before us. As she stares at the diary in her hands, her face is pensive. Her brow is creased, her lips pursed as if she's giving serious thought to what she wants to say. And when she does, I'm not disappointed.

"You know," she begins, "I don't even remember her. Dad would tell me stories, show me pictures, but ..." She looks up at my father. "But, it wasn't the same. I never knew her. You chose to take her from me, and I just can't reconcile your reasons with what you did; why you had to kill her in cold blood for wanting to tell her friend what you'd done. I realize that seeking out Jane didn't fit into your plans, but how does your choice to have an affair outweigh her right to live, my right to have a mother?" Her voice rises with each word.

"All she ever did was look out for her friend. She wanted her to know the truth, and your sick, twisted need to keep a secret cost her her life." She's all but screaming by the end of her speech before she calms down.

Her quiet chuckle is dark and sinister even to my ears as she looks down at the book in her hands. She steps away from me and walks around the desk before placing the diary on it. She then puts both hands on the surface, palms flat, and stands at her full height. Even at just barely five-foot-four, her presence is intimidating as she stands behind Carlisle's desk. The irony is not lost on me; that she's standing there at all, in a position of power, over the man who took so much from her.

"You know, Carlisle, ten years ago, when I came to live with you, I had hoped I'd one day look up to you as a father figure. That you'd be a guiding force in my life, help me get on the right path. When your son raped me, got me pregnant, you supported my decision to leave, to find my own way, and I never questioned your motives. But it was all a ruse. Probably your way of easing your guilty conscience."

She cocks her head as she stares him down. "There's nothing more I'd like to do than rip you limb from limb and burn the pieces; to watch you go up in flames like you chose to do to my life. But I don't think I have the stomach for that. But we all know you aren't leaving this room."

What color had returned to Carlisle's face drains away, and he breaks out into a sweat. I watch as his fingers grip the armrests of the chair, and his eyes keep flashing to the box on the desk. Bella must notice as well.

"What's in the box, Carlisle? Why do you keep looking at it?" She reaches over, opens the latch, and lifts the lid. Her hand slips inside, and when it reappears, it's holding a gun.

Emmett and I exchange a look, knowing this could get messy really quick. I had no intention of letting Carlisle walk out of here on his own two feet, but I didn't want Bella to be the one to do it.

"Bella, you don't want to—"

"What, Edward? I don't want to what? I don't want to kill him? I don't want to paint the walls in his blood? Because let me assure you, I abso-fucking-lutely do. I want him to suffer as much as I have all my life. I want him to know pain the way I have. So maybe I'll start by blowing off his kneecaps. That's something you guys do all the time, isn't it? I heard it hurts like a son of a bitch."

Her chest is heaving, and her eyes are a little crazed, and I realize I need to calm her down before she does something she regrets.

"Bella? Álainn? You don't want to do this."

"Oh, believe me, I do." She looks over to Emmett. "Call Alec and find out if my baby is back home." Her eyes go to the man seated before her. "I need to make sure they're really coming back."

We wait as Emmett makes the call, and he confirms that Kaitlin, in fact, is back in Boston. "They just landed. Alec is gonna drive them to the apartment," he says after disconnecting the call.

With a satisfied nod, Bella's eyes zero back on my father, her aim on his head never faltering. "You know what? I think I know what would hurt him so much more than busted kneecaps. All the secrets you've kept, all the lies you told to cover up your actions, they were all for nothing, Carlisle. That monster you raised, that asshole who hurt me, the one whose mere existence caused my mother's death ..."

She walks around the desk, the gun still trained on Carlisle. As she steps closer, he shrinks back, his eyes going from her face to the gun she's holding on him and back again. With the weapon now aimed straight at his heart, she leans in close, her voice not much more than a whisper.

"The monster who hurt me, who killed my father, is dead, Carlisle. My husband ended that pathetic excuse for a human being. He can't hurt anyone else, ever again, so it was all for nothing."

It's as if her words were a bullet through his brain. His sudden stuttered sobs and crying cause him to crumble where he sits. Bella takes a step back, watching him break, and it brings a satisfied yet sad smile to her face. The weight of his sins, the walls he's built with his deception over the years, it's all collapsing around him. Knowing it was all to save a dead man must just be too much.

"How? Where is my son?" he yells, anguish and anger in equal measure clear in his voice. "What did you do to my son, Edward?"

His choice of words twists my gut; as if Emmett and I don't even matter to him. And in retrospect, I guess none of it fucking does; he made his choices, and I made mine. "I made sure he'd never be seen or heard from again." I cock my head to the side. "Why the fuck do you care, Carlisle? You treated him like shit most of his life, made decisions for him and he was miserable. Yet you sit here and act like he was the center of your world, all while he was treated like the fuck up he was."

"Because there are things you don't know!" he screams. "Things between your mother and me that you'll never understand. My reasons for being so hard on him were because I expected more from him! He was supposed to do great things. He had the blood of two powerful families running through his veins, and I knew ... I thought if I just pushed him hard enough, made the right choices for him, he could have ruled over things with an iron fist!"

"Well, Em and I made sure that would never happen. He's shark shit in the Atlantic by now."

With his head buried in his hands, he doesn't see my wife step behind him. I don't even realize what she's up to until it's too late; until she raises her hand to the back of his head and plunges a needle up into the base of his skull.

She then leans in close to whisper. "If I'm lucky, I just hit your occipital artery, and it'll only take a moment for it to reach your heart." She forces the plunger through the barrel, pushing the clear liquid into his body. "You killed my mother, and you took my daughter." She pauses and leans forward to make eye contact with Carlisle. "You broke my heart, and now I'm going to be the one to stop yours." When the syringe is empty, she withdraws the needle, recaps it, and calmly walks back to the desk, putting it in her purse.

"What was that, Álainn?" I ask lowly, suddenly weary we'll have to haul his ass to Quincy to make him shark bait, too, in order to hide her involvement. After all, how the fuck am I going to explain his death in his own home.

"Just a little something to stop his heart. Picked it up at the urgent care you took me to. It should work its magic any moment," she says as I watch my father break into a sweat as he clutches his chest. "With his past history of a heart attack, I doubt anyone will even question it when he drops dead of another one. Esme probably won't even bother asking for an autopsy."

She says all this as Carlisle clutches at his chest. "Tell ... Esme ... "

"Don't you worry about Ma. She deserves better than you ever gave her," Emmett pipes up from his spot in the room.

Carlisle's breaths come in short pants while he sweats profusely. His eyes meet mine, and I find panic, fear, and finally acceptance.

I nod. "Ma will be taken care of. Jane, too. She didn't deserve the life she was given, either." I give the dying man before me more than he deserves; the peace in knowing the woman he tried to protect from his lies all these years will be cared for, as well as the woman he says he loved. As much as I hate this man, I love my mother more, and I would never turn my back on her.

He slumps over, collapsing in his chair, and stutters out his last breath. It's quiet in the room as we all stare at him, the man who hurt so many ... took so much. It's anticlimactic in a way, not at all how I would have ended him. I would have drawn out his pain, maybe even tortured him for days. I know, logically, Bella deserved to be the one to do this, but it doesn't make it any easier to swallow that she was the one to end him.

I'm suddenly angry, thinking she's put herself in harm's way, but I never take my eyes off Carlisle. "Bella, is that shit gonna show up if they—"

"No, it's practically untraceable." Her nonchalant attitude is simultaneously scary as fuck and pissing me off.

"Practically isn't fucking good eno—"

"Even if they do an autopsy, the elevated levels of potassium can be explained by the heart attack." She reaches over to place a hand on my arm. "Things will be fine."

My eyes finally leave Carlisle's dead body, and I look to my brother, whose gaze is still locked on our father, his expression one of sadness mixed with acceptance.

"How do you want to handle this?" he asks.

"You'll need to call 911 and say he collapsed with chest pain," Bella says from behind me. "If we leave him here and someone else finds him, they'll for sure do an autopsy. The injection site would show up."

"And we can't risk that," I say, nodding. "Bella and I will go get our girl, and you call it in, Emmett. You play that shit up, too; the sweats, him complaining of chest pain, the whole nine yards. You got it? And I dropped the two of you here earlier. That should answer any questions about your car not being here."

"Yeah, I got it. You go get your princess back. I've got this."

"And if I need to pay somebody off—"

"I said I got this, Ed. Go." He waves us off, and I watch as Bella goes to collect her things, including her mother's diary. As she does, I wipe down the handgun, removing her prints, and place it back in the box. I secure the safe and right the picture over it and then take her hand and head for the garage.

I watch her the entire time, while we walk, as I help her into the car, as she buckles her seatbelt, and as I pull out of the garage, waiting for the reality of what she just did to set in; that she just killed a man. But she's wearing a mask of calm, and it's fucking unnerving. I know she'll eventually break down, and when she does, I need to be there to catch her. But until then, the only thing that matters is having our daughter back in our arms.

As we pull out to the street, I reach over and grab my wife's hand, bringing it to my lips. I place a kiss on her knuckles and reach our joined hands to her cheek, brushing away a single, stray tear.

"Let's go get our girl."

A/N: So, do we all feel like he got what he deserved? There were a few rather ... entertaining suggestions about how he should meet his end, but Bella deserved to be the one to 'pull the trigger,' so to speak, and I couldn't see her being as brutal as her husband is capable of being.

Thank you all so much for all the love you guys have shown this story! We're almost at the end for this. I'm tweaking the last regular chapter right now and about to move on to the epilogue. It should be a total of 32 chapters, including the epi.

As I write this, I'm munching on saltines and sipping 7up, trying not to toss my cookies, so I can't promise I'll be able to reply to reviews this week.

Thumper the Humper and the Reluctant Handyman, my FAGE contribution, was nominated for the top completed fic for February! If you haven't read it, give it a shot. It's a fun, fast read. And if you love it, I'd appreciate your vote in the top ten poll. You can vote every day, so support all your favorites from last month!

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