Chapter Eleven – Up in Flames


Edward hit the gas hard when he realized Isabella's eyes continued to droop. She was in either too much pain or losing blood fast. "Hey, you fall asleep on me, Phoenix, I'll slap your face." It was harsh and something he didn't want to do, but if it kept her awake, he'd do it. He wasn't losing her because he didn't have the balls to hit her to keep her alive.

"You slap me and I'll cut off a damn nut, Edward. We'd only need one for kids anyway." She moaned softly, pressing and turning dials on the GTX's system at random.

She wanted children; at least they were on the same page about that. Edward would ask about it later. At the moment, he figured she was not herself, as she continued to mess with all the buttons on her dashboard. "What are you doing? Fuck, you're losing it."

Isabella rolled her eyes just as her glove department's door popped open, a computer screen sliding out, the screen rising up. "Hit the speaker on your door three times. My first aid kit is in there." She started to type on the laptop's small keyboard and cursed several times as she waited for the system to go through whatever security measures. "You know your boy back there was the one who probably set me up today."

Edward nodded his head. He had put two and two together five seconds after he shot the asshole. "He was the only one who knew we'd be heading out a day earlier than scheduled." As a precaution, because he was a paranoid fucker since all the Rossi shit with Alec, he had told the two crews they'd be leaving in two days instead of later that day—except Riley. He knew the truth or had known. The problem was Edward wasn't sure whom Riley worked for, but he would have to find out.

Three firm side hits with his fist, the speaker cover slid behind the door panel, the kit popping out. He handed it to her, watching her with wary eyes. The bleeding hadn't stopped yet, and she was struggling with whatever she was doing on the fancy laptop.

"What are you doing?"

Isabella wiped the sweat off her brow, watching the screen while opening the kit with her other hand. "Trying to figure out what those assholes were doing here."

No wonder she was good; there he was ready to pull the fuck over and help her, but she was still on top of things.

"My father said a few of Alec Rossi's cousins came down to pay us a visit." Edward glanced over at her. "That would likely be Peter and Damon. They're the only ones ballsy enough to come after me through you."

"That wasn't them back there, though, right?" She looked at him, laying her seat all the way back to attend to her wound, as her laptop worked through a series of photos or emails.

Edward wasn't sure what it was, but it was working on something important.

"Was it a bullet?" Edward indicated her bloody side, finding it difficult to concentrate on the road when she needed medical attention.

She shook her head, hissing as she lifted the shirt up to her chest. "One of the fuckers managed to stab me, then the crash caused some debris to lodge in there." After disinfecting her fingers and a pair of tweezer with some alcohol in the kit, she dug into the wound, pulling out a sliver of metal. She did her best to keep the pain contained, only a whimper or two letting loose. Out of the kit, she pulled a vial of strange-looking white balls. She poured them into the wound, the second they hit her blood, they started to expand, a few strays on the surface absorbing most of her blood.

Edward had never seen anything like it. "What is that? Fuck, Isabella. Tell me what to do." He wasn't used to dealing with so many emotions at once—a mixture of fear, love, anger, and helplessness. She was hurt because of him.

"An experimental but temporary way to stop the bleeding until I can get stitched up." The way she said it was detached, but he saw the clench of her fists. She was trying to keep herself under control, which he admired her for greatly.

If he were honest with himself, he'd probably lose his shit if she weren't so calm about everything.

"Do you have weapons at your place, Edward?" Her eyes were closed, her hand covering her wound as the other opened some bandaging. "We obviously can't head back to mine."

"I do. Why?"

She winced as she sat up a bit more, turning the screen toward him. "Looks like Peter and Damon had about twelve men with them."

Edward wasn't grasping what she was trying to say.

"Jesus, how the fuck did you Cullens survive without my family?" She shook her head, opening a bottle and swallowing several pills. "It's simple, Edward. Kidnapping me was a diversion."

Edward breathed out a "fucking hell," banging his hand on the steering wheel. "They knew if I was too preoccupied with getting you back, they had the distraction they needed to go after Jasper."

"Exactly." She pulled out her phone, plugged it into her laptop, and called someone. "Phoenix requesting assistance on hallowed grounds, intended target Jasper Cullen."

"Bella?" a man said through the speaker.

"Yeah, you have some explaining to do, Father." She hung up before Charlie had a chance to say another word.

"What the hell was that about? What does he have to explain to you?"

"I didn't recognize you, because hey, the last time I worked as the Phoenix before Alec was almost three years ago. You don't exactly look the same, between the beard and the way you dress, I didn't know it was you."

"Understandable. I bulked up a lot since then, too. That doesn't explain your father."

"Our crew is kept in the family, Edward."

Edward had been shocked when he found out who she was, but now he was heading straight toward, what the fuck? Her father was also a hit man; in fact, probably most of her family was. Worst yet, Charlie had been hurt while out on the hunt for Alec Rossi.

"My father was the one who saved you when you were a child, Edward."

"He knew who I was when we met." Edward knew Charlie felt familiar, and he wasn't used to feeling that around anyone after just a couple minutes. "My father knew who I was dating for weeks."

Isabella snorted, fixing her shirt and putting away her laptop. "My father knew who you were the moment you started to come around. I'm sure Paul or one of the other workers would've told him, and one look at you, he would've known who you were."

Edward's lips twisted into a scowl. "My father knew all along then."

"How did you come to choosing this little storybook town to find a wife?" Isabella's fingers flew over her phone's screen.

Edward kept his groan of embarrassment from surfacing. "You heard about that, huh?"

"Of course." She held up a finger to place another call, talking rapid-fire French and soon yelling. She held her hand over the mic and turned her attention back to Edward. "Collin, a resident at the center, is part of our crew; he was placed as a precaution by your father. He hasn't been answering the phone."

"Collin?" The name made something click in his memory. "I visited Jasper and I met Collin. He said he knew what I was."

"Are you freaking kidding me?" She threw her hands up in the air, clearly upset that her family knew who he'd been all along. A sound that was a cross between a growl and hiss fell from between her lips, wincing at the pain on her side. "There's going to be hell to pay."

She went back to the phone call, switching up to English for Edward's benefit. "If Collin is not answering, that means there's trouble. My information is solid. They are coming for Jasper now or they already have him and Collin. I don't care what your protocol is; as per the contract, those rules do not apply to those protecting a resident. Call Mr. Cullen, I'm sure he'd agree with Jasper's immediate release."

She hung up, hitting the roof of her car three times, causing a panel to slide back. "I was planning to put in a moonroof when I decided to put in a few bells and whistles after I got the car back, but I thought why not a small gun rack instead." She said all that while grabbing a Glock and a few magazines from the small arsenal at her disposal. "You never answered my question, Edward."

"My parents and I looked for small towns within an hour or two from Seattle because I needed easy access to freeways and airports. It had to have all the amenities I needed for survival."

"Like my café?" She grinned, looking much better as Edward pulled into his street.

"Exactly, but now that I remember, I'm pretty sure my mother was the one who pointed out the area." Edward wasn't sure what to feel other than betrayal, maybe a little bit of awe.

His father had always wanted to bring the crew he worked with into the family, and now Edward was in love with one of the most lethal assassins in the country, Carlisle would get his wish. "They set us up."

Isabella didn't have a chance to say anything else on the matter, her hand clamped down on his arm in warning. "Go! Go! Get us the fuck out of here!"

His house was up in flames.

Three fire trucks and several cars nearly blocked the road, but Edward maneuvered past them all with ease. They watched as smoke spilled out thickly from blown out windows and the front door, ash already blanketed the hoods of the emergency vehicles and the street.

Edward dialed the remaining security team, informing them his house had been sabotaged. He told them to get to Chicago after they destroyed everything at the second rental. He wasn't taking any chances on sending them to the center in case there was more than one rat among them. He still had another call to make, to his father.

He followed Isabella's instruction to head toward the rehab center, and wasn't surprised when she said she had more weapons in her trunk.

"If I hadn't shot Riley back there, what would you have done?" He spared a glance in her direction, catching her grimace before she schooled her features.

"I would've shot you both and went underground until I figured what the hell was going on."

"Despite your feelings for me?" Edward knew he didn't want to know, though a part of him expected nothing less from the Phoenix.

"It's because of my feelings for you that I would've made sure you died quickly." There was no remorse in her tone or words; she was simply honest. "Keeping my life and my identity away from who I was as the Phoenix is what kept me alive. I've been doing this since I was sixteen years old, when I killed the man who shot my mother. Her identity had been compromised during some operation years prior, but it took time for him to find her after she killed his brother." She paused and looked around. "Pull over there before we hit the city." The road was quiet and had a thick canopy of trees, a couple houses at the end of it.

Edward jumped out of the car and over to Isabella. It felt like a knife to the chest when she flinched as he tried to reach for her. His arms closed around her, her body shaking within his hold. After several seconds, she wrapped herself completely around him.

"We don't have a lot of time. There's a security team standing by outside the center grounds, and they're not allowed to enter until I get there, Edward. Not without breaking center rules and risking their lives. They'd shoot now, ask questions later."

They didn't have time, but he needed a moment together just as much as she seemed to. He gently cradled her face and looked deep into her eyes, then kissed her once, turning away and popping the trunk as she taught him. "I'm a damn good shot, but you have a hundred times more experience. I'll follow your direction, Phoenix."

Isabella's eyes darkened; a dangerous tilt to her soft mouth made his body tighten in response. She turned to the interior of her trunk and started to tap the side panel, a seamless number panel slid out. She entered a fourteen-digit code and stood back, her arms folded over her chest as numerous panels opened to reveal an arsenal of weapons that paled to the one on the ceiling of her car.

"It's time for the Phoenix to rise from the ashes. Let's suit up, Edward."


AN: Some of you will ask why did they bother to go to his house if she had guns in the car (new additions after she got the car back), the reason is because SHE would've made sure there was nothing to find there that would identify the owner as Edward Cullen, and she could never have enough guns.