Chapter 10
The next morning, I'm whistling happily as I run on the hotel gym's treadmill. I don't normally work out in public - my crazy hours and lack of wanting anyone in my building's gym to know me has made owning my own equipment a necessity. But with a job looming and no equipment in my room, I have no choice if I want to remain in shape. I should probably stop whistling, though, as the woman on the elliptical is smiling at me and doing her best to look sexy as she works out.
It's not hard to divert my eyes, as every ounce of attraction I have for the female form is directed at Bella.
I haven't been able to get that kiss, as innocent as it was, out of my mind. Her making that step is huge, which is why I left shortly after. I'm playing this smart, giving her time and space while seducing her silly and it seems to be working.
After returning to my room and showering (I behaved myself), I decide to send Bella a little text now that she's shared her number with me. It's more work than I thought as I pace the floor, trying to find the perfect mix of what to say and what mood to convey in a little phrase. The extent of my texting is mostly directed towards Emmett, on the few occasions we have to speak outside the confines of work (because we never discuss business over cell) to arrange the rare social plan or when I want to insult his wife.
I finally decide on 'good morning, beautiful' because it's exactly what I'd say if I were with her right now, waking up beside her adorably tousled head on warm, Tahiti Island Dream-scented sheets.
Holding the phone waiting for a response, I'm as giddy as a schoolboy. I can't wait to see her again, and short of writing her name in hearts on my notebook, I feel like I'm back to being seventeen when the whole universe revolved around her.
I want to sneak into her room like I did so many times after saying goodbye for the night at her parents' orders. I want to hold her close to me as we walk and have her tuck her hand into my back pocket like she used to. I want to feel her body pressed against me, warm and flushed, her skin damp from rolling around for hours in my bed after ditching school for the afternoon.
My phone beeps with a text and I nearly drop it I'm so excited to see what she wrote back. I fight the urge to pull the phone up to my chest and squeal before looking at it.
'Who is this?'
Seriously? 'Seriously?'
'Yes.'
'Who would be texting you 'good morning beautiful'?'
'Any number of admirers.' Okay, she's fucking with me.
'None are as enamored of you as I am.'
'Good morning, Edward.'
'Good morning, beautiful.'
My face hurts I'm grinning so big, but I leave it there, knowing I'll see her in about two hours. She's working this afternoon but has the night off, so I'll do some research and find a restaurant tucked away somewhere for a nice, romantic meal.
Work has to fit in though before I can relax for the evening, so first, I have to check on my cretin neighbor below and see what he has planned for today. The quicker I dispose of him, the faster I can go back to my vacation and my pursuit of Bella's heart.
Keeping one eye closed, I open my laptop to check on the cameras I'd placed in his room hoping to not see his white ass prominently displayed as he gets it on with his girl. I'm in luck; they're eating room service in their swimsuits, chatting idly about going to the hotel's small beach for the day.
They don't seem to be in any hurry, so I take the morning to clean and check my weapons, something I should've done as soon as I received them but ignored in my desire to be with Bella. Frowning, I oil my .22 and check the seams on one of the silencers Emmett sent, growing more perturbed the more I think about how I've let my focus slip.
Debating whether or not to ready my toothbrush syringe with a barbiturate or sodium chloride, I go with the tranquilizer hoping to maybe get a few answers out of stupid about how he manages his double life (I can't believe I'm even toying with the idea of seeking this jerk's advice) before I lay him out permanently. Even though I need a bit more time to plan the best opportunity, it's something that needs to be done sooner rather than later for two reasons. One, I'm a professional and need to fulfill my mystery client's order, and two, the anxiety I'm experiencing from the mistakes I'm making is torture. I look at my Xanax bottle longingly, knowing I shouldn't take one until I'm done surveying him for the day just in case things get tricky and he needs to go earlier than planned.
Drinking the last of the two pack blood supply Emmett sent me, I send a quick text to him reminding him I'll need more in about a week. I toy with the idea of telling him to send more than enough to last a few months, but don't want his inevitable bullshit nosy questions about why. Not because I'm not confident that I'm winning Bella back, but because I'm not ready to share her yet.
But if I'm being completely honest, part of me is also a little wary of jinxing the whole thing. There's always the chance Bella will be horrified by my profession, denying me and making me return to Seattle with my tail between my legs. So it's best that Emmett and his whore of a wife not have that to bring up repeatedly at family gatherings until I ultimately kill myself, which is the only possible outcome if she's not mine because there's no way I'm ever living without her again.
I roll the Xanax bottle between my fingertips, hoping I'll get calm by osmosis as I let my mind wander towards the unthinkable. If things don't work out with Bella, how could I go on? I can't imagine life without her, especially with the curse of immortality looming in the future. I wouldn't be able to function knowing she was out there somewhere, not wanting me the way I want her.
But what if she does want me to stick around and asks me to change my career? There's no other option for me professionally, as much as I'd like there to be. At some point, I'd have to kill someone when the urge gets to be too much, and if I wasn't a hitman I'd have a hard time explaining that to her. You don't just drop that casually. 'Hey sorry about your friend at dinner tonight, I couldn't help myself.' Um, no.
Too much stress. Maybe I should keep The Jazzman around, keep him alive in case I need to hire him for myself in the future. Like a lawyer on retainer.
Checking the cameras again, I see they've left the room and decide I've had a long enough pity party. Packing my beach bag with the essentials - sunblock, sunglasses, toothbrush syringe - I make my way down to the beach.
Spotting his ridiculous head of shaggy, 70's-worthy porn star blond hair isn't hard considering the beach is private and only a handful of chairs are scattered about. And I think I mentioned he has a head of ridiculous shaggy, 70's-worthy porn star blond hair.
"Can I get you setup on the beach, sir?" An eager teenager is at my side instantly, the hotel logo displayed on his visor and shirt.
"I can manage, thank you."
"It's no problem at all; it's why I'm here." He begins taking a lounge chair across the sand so I have no choice but to follow. "Anywhere in particular?"
There's no shade to be had anywhere near moron and his woman, so I point at a spot somewhere behind them, assessing the direction of the breeze moving off the ocean. It will aid in hearing them as their voices will carry back towards me. I'm not paying attention to where he's going and much to my horror, he misunderstands and places my chair directly next to them, the lesbian brunette looking up and smiling at me.
"Sorry, I'll move further away." I give the teenager a look like he's stupid but before he can pick the chair back up, she's stopping him.
"No! Stay there, it's fine. We've seen you at the bar but haven't had the chance to talk." The teenager moves away, pleased to have made her happy, at least.
"Uh," I mumble, thrown at the unexpected turn of events. Teenager comes back with a towel he promptly lays over my chair, making sure to tuck the top into a bit of a pillow, before placing a small table next to the whole setup.
"Isn't the service here great? They'll get you a drink, too!" I don't want to seem irritable but all this fussing is not something I'm comfortable with even if it is something I'll mention as a nice perk in my TripAdvisor review. The boy waits for me to order something so I go with water, a more normal choice over coffee or scotch.
"I'm Alice, and this is my husband, Jasper. I just love saying husband!" She looks at him and gushes, while he holds his hand out towards me.
This isn't going anything remotely like I'd planned, but having to adapt instantaneously to any scenario is a skill I possess, so I recover quickly and smile as I grasp his hand firmly. "Edward," I offer, knowing I can't use a fake name in case they overheard Bella calling me that at some point. "Jasper, Alice, nice to meet you." I smile, being the charming motherfucker I am.
"Everyone calls me Jazz," he volunteers and it's all I can do to not say 'ha' and 'your nickname makes you a douchebag'.
I sit on my chair so I'm facing them. "Newlyweds?"
"Yes!" Alice says, flashing her ring. "Just a week ago!"
"Oh! Congratulations. Great place for a honeymoon."
"Isn't it? It was a wedding gift from family."
"Wow, I'd keep that family member around, right?" I laugh gaily with a wink and Alice agrees.
"Are you here on vacation?" he asks, and I try to discern if it's a casual question or if he's automatically tuned to work mode.
"Yes, long overdue."
"Where are you from?" Alice takes a sip of some drink with a lot of fruit sticking out of it. Now, this is off-putting. Normally I would give a fake location, of course, but I can't very well lie when Bella could spill at the bar later. This is giving me a headache, and I've only been down here ten minutes. Xanax, take me away.
Not having much choice, I answer truthfully. "Seattle."
Alice's eyes widen a fraction, and I expect her husband to interrupt her to answer, but interestingly, it's she who speaks. "I hear it's lovely. We're from Arizona."
Well, well, well. Little Alice here is a liar liar pants on fire.
So the wifey knows just what sort of a man she married. Now I want to grill both of them before I have to stick a plunger of poison into his scrawny neck. Maybe Alice could give Bella some tips.
"Never been." My own lie - I took out a crooked cop with his own gun in Scottsdale. Good times.
She doesn't elaborate on her fake residence, and I don't add any info on Seattle. "How long are you here for?" Who knew actually talking to my mark could be so helpful? Maybe I can just ask when exactly he might be alone for ten minutes.
"We're here for two weeks, then it's back to the grind," Jazzdouche raises his beer and takes a long swig, emptying most of it. I laugh internally, as that act isn't going to make me not ask the obvious follow up question.
"I hear you. Back to reality and all that. What line of work are you in, Jazz?" I just vomited in my mouth a little bit.
"I'm a contractor." Yes, yes you are. I could really have some fun right now and say I'm in the same line of work, see how smart he really is and if he gets what I'm implying. "You?"
"Waste management." I'm not sure if he's bright enough to realize I'm being as vague as he is.
We lull into silence as Alice gets a call. It doesn't give me much information, just that their cat Blinky has been brought to the vet for what sounds like a massive hairball. As she's talking and Jazz is making himself busy ordering another beer, I look over at the bar to see Bella's arrived and staring at me. Waving to her, she waves back and then makes a 'what are you doing' gesture with her hands.
I point to the sun and the couple next to me, and make the universal symbol for talking. She looks at me like I've lost my mind (ah, I see she remembers I always hated people), but then motions for me to apply sunscreen, which I grab from my bag and hold for her to see with a 'thumbs up' gesture, which she gives back. We'd kick ass at charades.
Alice hangs up and tells Jazz that the cat is fine, something he seems happy about. The master of deception I am questions if that whole cat conversation is code for something, but then Alice goes on to share the consistency of the hairball described to her, and I change my assessment.
"Pets are more work than children sometimes," Alice turns to me, apologizing for the phone call.
I'm startled from my mooning over Bella and turn sharply back to my companions. Say what now? "Do you have children?"
"No, not yet. But I wouldn't mind a honeymoon baby in nine months! Right, Jazz?"
A baby. A hitman with a baby. If being married is a new concept to me, I can't even fathom having an infant to worry about. Does Bella want children? Would she want children with a man that kills people for a living before returning home for bath time? I picture myself with a carrier strapped to my chest while using a bowie knife and it seems impractical. However, a stroller could conceal many things.
"Well, we're certainly trying." He laughs and grabs her hand, kissing it affectionately. Their whole dynamic is fascinating and scary as fuck at the same time. I'm dying to know more, but a grown man grilling a couple about their relationship would raise some flags. "Do you have any, Edward?" Jasper asks, pulling me from thinking about ways to find out what I want to know without coming across as obvious. Or gay.
"Um, no. Not sure it's in the cards for me." Just a no would've sufficed, Edward, you dumbass.
"Never say never," Alice says with a bit of sympathy in her voice.
"I suppose I'd need a woman first." Why am I still talking?
"I'm sorry if I'm being intrusive," Alice starts, but continues on without waiting for me to say it's okay or shut up. "But I get the feeling you and Bella, the bartender, are an item? Did you just meet her or…"
Do I lie? Tell the truth? How do I classify Bella? I really shouldn't talk about her with these two but the urge to do so is strong. Fuck me I really need that Xanax and maybe a refresher course on how to be a goddamn decent hitman.
"Bella is… well, she's the one that got away, I guess. And I'm doing everything I can to gain her affections once more."
"Oh my God! How romantic!" Alice gushes, holding her hands up under her chin like a preteen with a crush. "She is so beautiful! I just knew you felt more for her than just a casual hookup. I told you, Jazz."
"Casual hookup?" I look between them, concerned that they've obviously been discussing me.
"Yeah, it's something Alice does, she observes people and tries to figure out their stories." Jasper smiles at her as I sit with my mouth open.
Jesus Christ, is she his partner or something? A hitman husband and wife team? Would Bella want to join forces with me? I shake my head of the ridiculous train of thought I'm careening down, considering we have yet to have a proper date let alone start working together as some twisted version of Bonnie and Clyde.
Okay, this is sliding down a ridiculous slippery slope. Time to get back on track and forget about Bella. I lean casually on my lounger, ready to turn this conversation back around to them and eek out more info. "So, what do you think you have figured out about Bella and me, Alice?" Fuck.
It's like I asked her about her wedding, she's so excited, leaning forward instantly. "Well, there was just an obvious dynamic between you two. I knew there was more to it than a vacation romance. It's the body language, the way you both seem so comfortable with each other. She moves, you move." Alice nods, waiting for me to confirm, which I don't as I'm too busy trying not to lean into her with my chin in my hands and stars in my eyes. "The way you two look at each other, it's possessive. Almost feral." Interesting choice of words. "Edward, you are crazy about the girl and the girl is crazy about you."
She is? "She is?"
"Mm hmm. I don't know your history, but man, you sure have one. I think she's undoubtedly yours, whether she's realized it yet or not." My heart races at her words, wishing them to be even close to true.
Suddenly, a loud crash comes from the bar followed by a cry, a sound of distress I'd know anywhere. I'm immediately on my feet and within seconds walking across the hot sand, calling out Bella's name. Nearing the bar, a chill runs through me when I see Bella holding her hand, a trail of blood running down her arm. Hearing her name, she looks up at me, a look of horror on her face.
"Edward! No! Don't get any closer!" Confused, I keep walking, about to round the bar to get to her. "Stop! Go away, Edward! Please!"
"Bella, you're hurt!"
"I don't want you over here, please, just back up!" The flow of blood is increasing down her forearm and she takes a towel given to her by a busboy.
"But Bell…"
"Stay back, Edward!" she shouts, giving me a pleading look as her hands shake. What is going on? Why wouldn't she want me to help her?
As she takes a few steps away from me, it hits me like a crowbar to the back of the head. My stomach clenches and my lunch threatens to show itself in a bright red joke all over the concrete.
Bella thinks I'm going to attack her.
Huge thanks as always to my GIF-loving pre-reader, LayAtHomeMom, and my favorite person/muse/beta, CarrieZM. Without them I am nothing.
And without you, I am just a bunch of unread words in cyberspace.
