Crosshairs
Chapter Seventeen—Memories
Edward and Isabella spent most of their private flight to LAX resting after the non-stop, high-octane rush from one incident to another. They had to discuss each other's family in length. Secrets were no longer an option between them; they often led to mistakes and misunderstandings.
In their line of work, it could mean death.
Isabella sat on Edward's lap, her fingers playing with his hair.
"I'm too fucking old to break up because of miscommunication. If something is bothering you, Isabella, you tell me." He grabbed her chin so she could see he was serious.
She cocked a slim eyebrow. "There's no such thing as breaking up in your world."
Edward's grip on her thighs tightened. "I'm not going to have you killed because you decide all of this isn't worth it. You were retired, but my family conspired to lure you back in and bring your set of skills into our organization."
"Not without the help of my father." Her fingers curled in his hair, tugging too hard in her anger.
Edward didn't wince, but his cock stirred. Would he ever get enough of her? He hoped the fuck not.
"I'm not going to bother to lie, because even if you wanted some space to decide if you wanted a bloody fucking future with me, I wouldn't exactly give it to you."
She rolled her eyes. "You'd have people tail me."
Edward snorted. "Which you'd be able to slip by undetected, I'm sure. I wouldn't waste my time with that kind of shit." He gave a kiss to her inviting lips to soften the harshness of his words. His hand slid down her inner thigh. "I would, however, make sure you never forget what we could have."
Isabella's thighs clenched, her ass shifting against his cock. "As if I could forget." She leaned closer, her lips near his ear. "You're stuck with me." Her hand slipped between their bodies, cupping his dick hard.
That time, he did wince.
"If you mention this shit again, I'll have to take drastic measures to remind you that I fucking love you, asshole."
Edward only got harder, pressing a button on the side of his chair. The flight attendant answered. "No interruptions for the duration of the flight, but announce overhead when we're about to land."
"Yes, sir."
Edward challenged his lovely fiancée with a naughty smile. "Maybe you need to remind me right now, Isabella."
She shivered, her back arching. "Maybe a little taste?" The tip of her fingernail slid up his covered cock, as she waited for his response.
Her mouth on his cock would be heaven, but she expected him to ask for it. He wanted to surprise her with what he really wanted. He hummed. "A little taste of that pretty pussy, anytime, anywhere, beautiful."
Her eyes widened, allowing him to see the tempting combination of vulnerability, lust, love, and ferocity he'd rarely seen in anyone but himself.
It wasn't long before her dress disappeared over her shoulder, shimmying out of her underwear in record time. She'd been braless as she climbed him and maneuvered until her pussy was hovering over his mouth. Her hands settled on either side of his head on the back of the couch they'd moved to earlier.
Edward groaned, his hands spreading over her bare ass. His tongue got reacquainted with her taste. His ears were treated to a symphony of moans, whimpers, and whispered pleas for more.
They each earned their Mile-High Club badges twice before the plane landed.
.
.
.
"I'm never allowing my brother to make arrangements for covert travels again." Edward looked at the minivan in disgust. "We have to drive this piece of shit all the way to fucking Vegas."
Isabella laughed, tossing her overnight bag in the back. She had packed light since it was unknown how long they'd remain in Chicago. No matter what, she had to head back home to pack her stuff and promote a few people to manage her legitimate businesses, including her cafés. She had no intention of letting them go, but she would step back from the day-to-day operations. There was also the fact that she refused to spend a night away from Edward. Thankfully, he felt the same.
For now.
"He wants to make sure we get into Chicago safely. Though, if I headed your security, I would do the same, too. You need something less ostentatious...like a private flight."
"I insisted on that part, too tired to drive all the way to Vegas from Washington."
A crew had followed them from the airport, and two of her own people remained incognito. It had been too easy to put two people on his plane and she'd given him hell for it. The moment she arrived in Chicago, changes would be made to their security team.
"These necessary tactics are also giving our fathers time to come up with excuses for manipulating us together."
Isabella muttered several obscenities, climbing into the offending vehicle. Once on the road, they decided to continue their conversation from their flight before Edward asked her to remind him that she loved him.
"We've already had the past relationship talk, but I want some clarification." She looked at him as he kept his eyes on the road.
He wasn't comfortable with the topic, mainly because he wanted to find every one of her former lovers and rip off their fucking dicks. He had no doubt she'd felt the same about his exes.
"You can ask me anything; we agreed to no secrets."
She hummed then sighed. "I told you before that I'm the jealous type."
Edward remembered having takeout when she mentioned it before; that day had been quite enlightening. He had fallen in love with her the second she had him chase her around her apartment.
"I remember." He shifted in his seat.
"Good. One hint of infidelity and I will confront you, locked and fucking loaded."
It was a warning and expected from her.
"That's not a question."
"You know how I feel, but are there any exes of yours within the organization?" She meant those who worked in the clubs or other businesses. The ones they could see on occasion.
"No, I purposely avoided them. Mostly because some of them fucked someone in my family."
She nodded, pleased by his answer. "Okay, what are the chances of bumping into one of them at a fundraiser or at the local coffee shop?"
"Local coffee shops are unlikely; they'd have someone pick it up for them."
She scrunched her nose. "Society darlings, I'm guessing?"
"Yes, but my relationships rarely lasted. It doesn't take long for their families to find out that we allegedly have mob connections. They often ended with a mommy or daddy threatening to disinherit them. Sometimes, they asked too many questions, so I ended the relationship."
"Sounds lonely."
Edward nodded. "You have no idea."
"Oh, you think it's so easy for a fucking contract killer to have a relationship? I have a thirst for blood, so some of the men I dated saw something dark in me. It scared them off."
She looked out the window; her brow tight with doubt or worry, Edward wasn't sure.
Isabella sighed. "I never found the kind of connection with anyone until you; maybe we recognized something in each other."
"My first instinct when I saw you in your coffee shop was to go for my gun."
She nodded, seemingly uncomfortable with his confession.
"Then I wondered if we'd met before."
Suddenly, she looked nervous. "I'm pretty sure we have," she said, watching him closely.
"You mentioned having seen my photos among your contract files, so that's likely why you feel that way."
Edward went over that conversation; she hadn't recognized him, and while in Chicago, he rarely went anywhere without being cleanly shaven. "That wouldn't explain why I feel the same way." He'd never seen her before that day outside of her café.
"We were much younger, I think." She sighed again. "I started to remember things after the truth about who you are."
Edward closed his eyes for a second. "How much younger?"
"When my uncle died during your rescue, my parents couldn't trust just anyone to take you back to your father. Your kidnappers had known my father's crew was coming, meaning there had been a leak on one or both sides. My parents decided to go to my aunt who was watching me that night, and you were still with them, I think. I was so young; I can't be sure."
Old, foggy memories slammed into Edward, punching him in the gut. They were so visceral; it was as if he was reliving them. Smack in the middle of what he considered hell. He heard Isabella call out to him, and soon she took control of the steering wheel to pull off the road.
Blood, there had been so much blood. He remembered throwing up after Isabella's uncle took the bullet meant for him. Someone cried and screamed, shaking and checking him for injuries, cradling him in their arms. Rocking him like a child.
"Who the fuck are these bastards?" A masked man aimed toward the last location bullets had flown from and fired a few shots in each direction. "Cullen sends his regards. You'll pay for this with your lives."
Dark laughter filtered through the air like nails on a chalkboard, slithering down Edward's spine. His long, lanky body curled up farther into the warm arms that saved him. A long braid brushed his cheek, reminding him of his mother. "Mom!" He choked out, his throat dry and cracked from lack of water and the screaming.
Someone quieted him. "We have you." She turned away from him, her voice growing distant. "Take him, Eagle One. I need to take some photos, and maybe we can find some answers in them."
"Fuck no, too dangerous." More shots crackled like thunder around Edward; his body jolting at every pull of the trigger.
"They killed my brother," the woman holding him hissed. "We need to get out of here for the boy, but not before we at least figure out who orchestrated his kidnapping."
"Damn it! I know you're right. Give him to me." Though the new pair of arms was harder, Edward felt safe within them, but he winced as several flashes went off from his right side, blinding him.
"Oh my God, I think I got their faces." The woman suddenly screamed; her camera shattering. "My hand!"
"Fuck!" The man carrying Edward wrapped the woman's hand in a bloody shirt, and together with Edward, ran to safety as a barrage of bullets from outside the building provided them some cover. "Blow it, Peacock!"
Seconds later, Edward felt a blazing heat sear his face as he watched a section of the dilapidated warehouse he'd been held in go up in flames.
"Edward, baby, please!" Isabella had spent almost three minutes trying to reach him, sitting on his lap and cradling his face.
Panic filled his eyes and his breathing was out of control.
"Edward Anthony Cullen, you snap out of it right now!" She grabbed the front of his shirt and shook him hard. It wasn't the best way to deal with a panic attack, but she had to pull him out of his haunted memories.
Edward inhaled sharply, his lungs aching with the need for air. "What happened?"
"I think you're remembering." She pressed kisses over each of his eyes, along his jawline, keeping her touch light until he resumed breathing normally after several minutes.
He hadn't had a panic attack in years.
"Your mother; they shot the camera out of her hand." Edward felt Isabella nod, her breath shuddering hard. "That's why she had to stop working with your father, isn't it?"
"Yes. She remained on the crew but behind the scenes until her murder." Her forehead rested on Edward's; each haunted by their memories. "We met the night of the rescue."
"I think I remember you." Once Edward had passed out after the explosion, Charlie and Renee had introduced themselves, risking their anonymity to provide him some comfort. They had let him rest for a few hours, as they had already picked up their daughter when he woke in the back of a van. They had informed him they were meeting with his father at a location hundreds of miles away, but they didn't want to risk flying. They suspected airports were being watched and both their fathers refused to risk Charlie's family or Edward at that point. "You were this stubborn, tiny thing."
Isabella had only been about five years old—a cute, heart-shaped face, dimpled cheeks, and a sassy attitude. At the time, Edward was terrified of everyone, male or female. He fought tooth and nail when her mother tried to get him cleaned up at some cheap motel, until Isabella called him a crybaby, watching him from the doorway of the bathroom.
A very adult Isabella gave him a small smile. "I think you flipped me off."
Edward chuckled, relieved to feel like himself again. "Then you asked me if I wanted to be alone with my big baby tears."
"My memories are fuzzy, but I do remember how much I didn't like to see you in pain. Grandma Swan believed in tough love, so that's why I was so mean to you at first."
Edward slid some of her dark hair behind her ear; the shorter length meant it was constantly in her face. He didn't mind; it gave him an excuse to touch her often. "Then we road-tripped across the country and got to know each other."
She shook her head. "I don't remember much. I'm sorry."
"It's all right, I do." He pulled back and looked her in the eyes. "I remember more with each passing minute."
AN: These characters are in complete control of this story, they're supposed to be in Chicago already, but nope. They decided they needed to be armed with all the information before facing them. The next chapter is written and awaiting editing. Thanks to MC for your help with the chapter and this story in general, and basically all your enabling encouragement, lol. See you all soon.
