Dine and Dash

by KittyTylz

Bella gets dared dine&dash but is caught by the restaurants owner, Edward Cullen. He's a 19-year-old dangerously attractive but deadly gangster. The well connected leader of the Shadow Fangs, he also happens to be the enemy of the gang her best friend Jacob belongs to and she's stuck in his territory to avoid a permanent record. AH/AU,Possessward,Torch Awards Peoples Choice Winner

11. The Answering Miracles

Authors Note: Hey everyone, hope you're all doing well. To all my girls thank you, you mean the world to me. As mentioned on Twitter the rewrite 13 is currently with the amazing JustJJ so once she works her magic betaing and has it back to me it'll be posted. This chapter still owes a thank you to Irena de Marco for the lovely song she suggested to me. No major throws in this one, just formatting and minor changes. Love to JustJJ and awesomella and all you guys reading, and those who sent messages. My health is improving slow cause I can't seem to put on weight but on the brighter side I got the job, *laughs* so no time like now to have a boost in my employee health benefits. Thank you for your patience, I'm having difficulty writing because I'm busy and am not feeling well but I have not abandoned the story. Enjoy, love Kat.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, quotes, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners and are simply used under 'fair use'. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is written for the legally recognized adult population. According to the e-mail response I received from them, FF doesn't allow gratuitous descriptions of sex and extensive graphic violence.

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Dine and Dash

*~*~* Chapter Eleven – The Answering Miracles *~*~*

'He's the only stable thing in the swirling chaos.' ― (Beth Revis)

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I can taste the tension in the room on my lips. Ice pumps out my heart at a rapid speed. Chilling my body as it travels in my bloodstream, painting my skin in goosebumps. My eyes are frozen on the silver gleam of his gun. It glints and shines as he draws it higher. His uniform is mussed and dirty from his trek but it's still enough to kill all sounds in the room.

Fear grips me in its venomous claws and I know I'm not alone when I hear Rosalie and Victoria rise to their feet and hold their breaths too.

"Can I help you?" I can tell by her voice that Rose's composure is forced as we stand facing the ever advancing cop.

He moves at a steady, slow pace edging his way toward the bar and lounge area.

"Odd place to be find'n three young ladies." Waylon's voice is stern and I can tell the cop in him smells a rat.

Cop? Cop!

"Noooo." I drawl. Feigning nonchalance because technically… yes I hate this man, but right now

I speak on behalf of Rose, Tori and myself when I say: This is bad. Really bad. "We just like hanging out in private places."

Waylon scowls. It makes me smirk internally.

"Which, just so you know, this property is. Do you have a warrant?" I ask innocently.

He shifts and that's all the encouragement I need. It's a Wolf related thing. Even though we seldom hang out away from the guys, thanks to the backing we get from the gang, the girls involved with La Push's ruling crowd can generally bullshit our way out of nearly anything when it comes to the law. I've never actually done this without Leah or Rachel before but hey, no time like the present for a solo career right?

Slipping my game face on, I send a silent prayer to the heavens in thanks for making me the daughter of a cop, then hold Waylon's gaze fiercely. "Cause if you don't, you've got to leave."

"Don't you watch the news, Missy? There's an investigation in Forks. It's being headed by the Seattle police force."

I hated his tone, I hated his patronizing way of speaking to me and fuck me, AGAIN with the Missy! But I couldn't slip and be irrational right now. Fighting a cop would be bad, so bad. We didn't have a chance against his weapon and it would completely screw us over if we got arrested. This had to be fought with smarts first. Forks was technically Seattle's jurisdiction until they either caught their man or gave up on the case. And I now knew their guy to be Royce King.

And Royce is evidently someone my boyfriend is willing to risk his life for so it ultimately makes him fucking important to me by association. At the very least just until my Edward's back and I know he's okay. Till then for the part that I can help I'll make sure his affairs are safe.

Those thoughts are honest, simple and as pure as law breaking can be but it's all it takes for my mind to start flying again. Folding my arms, I tilt my head glaring at Forgeyboy. He's beating around the bush. I pounce.

"What's that got to do with having a warrant or not?" I snap.

Rosalie's presence at my side suddenly came to life. Arms crossed and stance blasé enough to match mine, she stepped forward, stopping beside me. The intimidating blonde from our first encounter at Nell' Ombra makes her appearance.

"Precisely." She pronounces with venom and an arched brow. Circling one long manicured finger in the air, she gestures to the building before speaking again. "This is private property."

"Cop or not, you need a warrant to be here." Tori bites out, standing at her full height.

We're being all 'Charlie's Angels' right now, but if you could break into our heads, you'd see a mini-version running around with hands in the air. Freaked. The. Fuck. Out.

Gluing our game faces on despite the distinct urge to hightail it to safety, we stand tall looking at him.

I didn't understand his motive. He hadn't produced a warrant to search the place. My gut was telling me something was off. I didn't think he wanted to search it?... No, it's more like he wanted to know what we were doing in it?...

Minus my being an accessory to a crime, the Police Chief in my father would be so proud that I pulled such influence from him.

Looking closer at Waylon, I took careful note of the worried wrinkles lining his forehead. He was sweating. Waylon Forge was more on edge then we were. Armed with that information, I got my second wind.

"And we're unarmed." I snap. Despite my cool façade, subconsciously I slip my hand to my side. Discreetly dipping it into Edward's oversized hoodie and wrapping my fingers around the cold metal of the blade hidden in the pocket. I up my game face. "We don't pose a threat to you, so stop pointing that thing at us." My voice was steady and calm in a command even though I was shitting myself on the inside.

Waylon scowled, his badge glinting with authority, he lowered the gun but he continued to cross the floor towards us. His slow footfalls never faltering once.

"Look, if you have a valid reason to be here, let's have it." Tori snapped defensively, when he was a mere few feet before us.

"Can I see the papers for this place?" Waylon directs the question to us coldly.

My eyes narrow. His body language is wrong. He already knows we don't have it? But how?

Why would Waylon be so protective of this place?

I'm the only one who seems to have caught these things about him though because I'm close enough to see Rosalie's face pale slightly. I would've argued again but the words caught in my throat when Tor and I hear what Rose does. We were screwed. There where distinct footsteps thudding up the staircase towards the door. I could feel the fear gripping us in its merciless claws as I pictured the hounds of cops about to swarm this place. We stood dead still as we stared from Waylon to the door at his back.

Rose and Tori needed Waylon to disappear because Royce was in danger of the very cops Forge represented. We collectively needed him gone because if he arrested us, we were screwed in every sense of the word with no one to save our asses because honestly we'd rather be arrested than implicate Edward and his guys. Gang loyalty. It's what we do. Granted, I was usually doing this for another gang but details change, you know. Every step this man took towards us got him closer to the wall in the lounge we desperately needed to keep him away from. The one with the fireplace that was littered with pictures of Royce. We had a firm hint that some of the Shadow Fangs were already in custody, so this would implicate them as well as us. Then there was me and my solo problem, this would screw me over for all eternity. Not only would Dad find out I wasn't at work, he'd find out Waylon found me while searching a warehouse in the middle of the forest for Royce King, the felon who's case is keeping him away from home more often than usual.

Along with breaking the heart and trust of my dad, I'd be spitting in the faces of my Wolves. I'm not sure they'd ever be able to forgive me. If they didn't, I couldn't even blame them.

I'd made an active choice to be with Edward. I knew what it could cost me if they found out, but

I still couldn't bring myself to stay away from him. I broke one of my loyalties to the Grey

Wolves because I have severe feelings for Edward, I didn't regret it and I wouldn't be able to blame them if this went south but I loved them equally, it was what it was. I could feel that thought crippling me from deep within the pit of my stomach. Losing them, the safety net of my family, would kill me. If I lost Jake, would that mean I'd have to stay away from Billy and Sarah too?

Fighting hard against the rising bile, I push aside those thoughts. Losing La Push would break my heart, completely pull the ground out from under my feet but right now, I was faced with fucking Seattle and I needed to protect Forks…

Jesus, who'd have thought I'd say that one day?

"Yeah, I didn't think so." Waylon said, raising the gun again. "Now, what you girls doin' here?"

Just as my fingers wrap firmer around the blade to yank it out I hear one of the hurried footsteps push through the door.

Dirty, bruised and bleeding, I recognize the man instantly.

"Forge, stop fucking with my kid."

The utter exhaustion in his voice doesn't drown the commanding undertones of the striking man.

His hoarse deadpan instantaneously stills everything in the room.

"ROYCE!" Rose screams and launches herself at him just as Edward enters with a few other

Shadow Fangs. Emmett, Caius and Demetri. They remain in the doorway, tossing their guns carelessly onto the hall table.

I'm dumbfounded, watching them with unbelieving eyes. My gaze remains on Edward, relieved, confused and awed. He's here.

I don't know why that makes me feel better because it's not like I can protect him physically, though I'd sure as hell try if I had to. I guess I'm simply relieved because seeing him in the flesh means he's okay. My fear of him having been arrested is one nightmare I'm not faced with. The relief nearly makes my legs give way. The confusion fights for dominance against the relief but loses even though I don't really understand how it is that Waylon's not arresting them.

Everything suddenly fades out when my brain starts functioning enough to process what I'm seeing. Then I'm mesmerized because Edward is grinning. It's a 'smile grin'. A glint of complete happiness cocooned in his wicked naturally sinister smirk. In my peripheral vision, I see Rose grab Royce in a bear hug the second she's within reach. He winces and she backs up, but aside from that there isn't a face I see that isn't a little giddy with glee. Even Waylon's bloody grinning, walking over to the bar and grabbing a bottle of whiskey—

Wait! Back up. The hell?

I look again and see the same thing. Automatically, I let go of the blade I'm wielding in my pocket and gape with a comically slack jaw when he tips back the bottle and knocks back a swig of the hard liquor, clearly experiencing his own relief that we're with the Shadow Fangs too.

I feel eyes on me, an intense burning that sears my skin and makes my pulse skyrocket. The pull he has on me is soul gripping. My body turns instantly and I lock onto his jade eyes, staring at me quizzically.

He's dirty, a sweaty sheen covers him, I can see traces of blood leaking from the scratches on his tall, beautiful frame and his dark clothes are soaked and caked with mud in some areas. All it takes is one long crooked finger in my direction and my feet fly forward, leaving my brain confused and alone where I once stood.

His grin widens, just before I slam into his body and I feel his chest vibrate under my cheek with a silent chuckle. His arms lock around me and mine wrap fiercely around him. It feels like I'm floating, my feet don't touch the ground, my heart pounds blood into my eardrums deafeningly. The beats are in time with an insistent thumping sound that damn near brings tears to my eyes.

It's only then with my ear pressed to his chest, his dogtags digging into my temple, that I realize, I was terrified for him above all else… Having tangible evidence that he was here safe and sound, even if he was banged up, was like being able to breathe for the first time.

I feel thick, warm liquid under my fingertips. My brows furrow and I pull back in confusion at the familiar consistency between my fingers. Oh God… I claw and crawl up him to see his face.

"You're bleeding." I whisper.

"Only a little bit." He smirks, matching my soft tone teasingly.

Before I can knock him one upside the head because it's not a trivial matter that he's hurt, I hear a distinctive laugh behind me and look up just in time to see James walk in and exchange an amused look with Edward.

There's blood flowing in a steady stream down the side of his face from a deep gash on his forehead and one of his piercing blue eyes is fractionally shut from the swelling around it. He's distracted by Victoria when she races to him, her traveling hands taking inventory of his injuries and her lips peppering kisses to his chest and collar because that's as high as she can reach with her lips when he's standing up straight. I have the same problem with Edward.

"James!" Toria's frantic. Looking at him I don't blame her. "What the fuck happened!"

A dark shadow falls over the room, adding strain to the happiness. I can almost see it happen before my very eyes. A looming cloud blackens the air around us, smiles fading to nothingness as it spreads its holding ground. Tension's rising at rapid speeds around us. From the look on Toria's face, I can tell I'm not the only one curious as to what's going on.

"Where's Jazz?"

Still locked in Edward's arms, the best I can do is swivel my head to the right where Rosalie stands, her question metaphorically echoing in the room. Stepping away from Muscleman and Royce, she took one look at Edward and reality visibly seemed to crash down on her.

"Where's Jasper?" she repeats more urgently, moving closer towards her cousin, her steps speeding up when her now timid green eyes land on Edward's blood coating my fingers.

Edward's deadly rigid in my arms. His body taut and fierce, I can practically taste the rage burning inside him. I find myself slightly fearful… I hadn't really thought about that. This was technically a family matter… And even if they didn't show it, I could tell they were fiercely close so why would he come back without his cousin? My heart drops rapidly as the worst case scenario plays out in my head.

"Edward…" Rosalie's soft gaze flitters up from the blood coating her fingers from Edward's face as she turned him towards her. She sounded desperate. A sound I would've never initially guessed she'd ever be capable of using. "Where is he?"

We all look to Edward for an answer. But it's another voice that responds.

"We'll get him out." Royce sags against the door frame trying to catch his breath.

Simple and to the point, but that was some reassurance because at his voice, the strain in the room seemed to ease.

At Edward's answering devilish smirk, it damn near fucking evaporated. "Sure as fuck, he's getting out."

There's some hidden message in his words but it would appear only the guys are privy to it. I couldn't care less. Everyone that mattered was apparently alive even if they weren't well. With that worry put to ease I could be perfectly honest with myself and admit that right now all that mattered was the idiot in front of me. Placing my hands on his back, higher up than from where he was bleeding I buried my face in his neck, inhaling deeply and giving in to the fact that Edward Cullen meant more to me than I let myself know. He responded by holding me tighter even though his attention was on the rest of the room.

From my position against his chest, I can see Royce clearly. My curiosity over this man remains ever peaked. I'd forgotten about him in totality in my rush to get to Edward. However, I'd apparently been the only one to commit that mistake.

I feel Edward's silent laugh as Rose gives Waylon the stink eye while she walks towards Royce. Part of me is thrilled, wondering if Waylon will freak out now that he knows that Rosalie is related to both Royce and Edward. Fucker.

"God, I can't believe you're back." The relief and affection laced in her tone is heartbreaking. "It's— I mean— You're— Just— Jesus! " She shakes her head and then laughs. A beaming smile stretches across her face as the intoxication of unadulterated happiness takes over again. She squeals loudly, looking like a child.

Royce smirks, laughing even though it's strained from pain. He's covered in dirt, drenched to the bone and clearly wounded. But apparently Rosalie hasn't noticed. She barrels at him again, barely giving the visibly drained man enough time to brace himself for it.

I watch curiously. Royce King. He remained as striking as he had the day I'd seen him in the forest. Naturally menacing and as deathly glorious as his nephew. I notice burns and wounds on his skin though and it makes me examine him harder. My eyes grow wide when I realize there's actually very little flesh visible on him that isn't wounded.

"La bambina. (Baby girl) " He may be worse for the wear but he still manages to pick up Rose and return the hug with a little less vigor considering how worn out he is. He chuckles. "How you been?"

"Jesus, he is not." Edward deadpans and Rose rolls her eyes when he and his maker chuckle at her expense. "And I did all the fucking work." His velvet voice comes out uneven from exhaustion even as he teases. He picks up his voice a tad and swings his head fully towards them growing serious for a second. "And for fuck's sake, get off him Rose—" he orders stepping forward a little when Royce starts wheezing and heaving. "— he's cut open!"

Rose slips away from Royce, white as a sheet. "Uncle Roy?" she asks, looking him over for the first time.

"Relax la piccola Elisabetta (Little Elizabeth). Gimme a second, I'll be good as new." He smirks through his obvious discomfort reminding me so much of someone else I know. Royce walks over to the lounge unhooking a strap of dangling guns, refills and knives from beneath his hoodie and dropping it to the floor as he collapses onto the chaise closest to him.

Everyone follows suit and heads in the direction of the lounge save me, Edward, James and Toria.

"Aren't you supposed to be home by now?" he whispers into my hair.

"Home!" I shriek, momentarily forgetting where we are. I slam into his chest with my fists apparently also forgetting he's hurt. "I was worried, you jackass."

His arms wrapped around me instinctively steadying us both. I felt his chest vibrate and looked up to see a breathtakingly amused smirk plastered to his sinfully beautiful face.

"What the hell is wrong with you!" I growl into his soaked shirt, burying my head into his shoulder, needing his scent so badly right now so I can absorb him. I'm irrationally pissed at his recklessness. He's a gangster, I mean, come on, Bella. He's in constant dangerous situations because he himself is dangerous. It comes with the territory.

"Wrong with me?" his tone dances playfully. "You're the one attacking felons."

I hear indiscreet snorts and remember we're not alone. Pulling back quickly I look at him, really look at him. He's a mess.

"Oh my God." I exclaim.

He smirks broader. I know what he's thinking and I want to smack him for it but stop myself because that would defeat the purpose.

"What happened?" My fingertips lightly trace his cuts and bruises.

"Minor run in with the feds." He says. It's short and clipped. I know without asking that something went wrong out there that lead to Jasper being cuffed. He's pissed off. More than I think I've ever seen before. The storm he's keeping at bay is of colossal proportions.

"Edward, did everyone get out all right?" His hard eyes dart to me and I clarify. "Not Jasper. Aside from lockup— The Sha— Your gang. They got out safe?"

He raises a brow. An undecipherable glint churning in the dark emerald oceans. Maybe it's because I showed concern for Fangs? Maybe it's because they didn't all get out? So many maybes and then he's saved from answering me by a teasingly incredulous deadpan.

"Well, loooook who's done teething."

I whip my head to the side and catch James smirk at Edward as Toria with a grin unlocks her legs from around the blue eyed mischievous Lucifer incarnates hips.

"Aw c'mon." He pouts mockingly, and then drawls out. "Flash me those fangs la sirena."

Despite my best efforts to fight it my lips curls upwards and I laugh straight out my gut. I must be insane.

"You know at some point I want to know why you and your posse call me a mermaid." I say.

Edward watches the exchange with hidden amusement. James throws a dramatic, accusing glare at Toria and she kisses him in response with a tinkly sounding giggle.

"You're an ass." Tori scowls at him after her shocking display of a higher than PG make-out. "How the hell did you get so banged up?"

In that moment she reminds me of Rachel, using anger as a front to cover up her worry. Everyone's got a mask, this is theirs. James smirks and grabs her hands in a death grip when she tries to swat him, lifting her up against him again, he makes her hold him.

"C'mon." Even when he pretends to whine the predatorial edge to him doesn't fade. "Bella missed Edward more than you missed me."

Huh?

James face is sinfully innocent but Toria tries to bite back her grin so miserably hard she looks seconds away from busting her lip open.

I've been so worried about looking around me that I hadn't looked down until now. I can't see feet. Any feet.

Oh hell…

My faces flames brightly, I wiggle desperately to get off Edward. My legs begrudgingly let go of his waist but his hands keep me floating in the air. A wicked grin on his face he leans down so we're at eye level.

"Where you tryna go?" His voice is low and husky, promising trouble.

My eyes grow hungry and my core drips a little. I flush further under his knowing, lustful gaze and he finally lowers me to the ground. His lips connect to mine chastely the second my feet connect with the floor. It's soft and quick but it sends my mind into a tailspin. A quiet moan of contentment escapes me when he licks a line across my bottom lip. He pulls back and grins. Standing at his full height he towers over me as he locks our fingers together and leads me towards the lounge.

I feel the distinct need to plant my feet firmly on the ground. My self-preservation instincts tell me not to go there. Force of habit. Raised and bred on La Push you tend to be cautious when surrounded by another gang. I can't help it. This is still going to take some getting used to.

When James flanks Edward I have little choice in the matter though. Toria is practically super glued to his side. It'd be amusing if I wasn't about to share a room with 'Royce King, royal felon on the run'. All things considered I felt the need to follow his lead and bolt!

"James, ti occupi tu di Jazz e Alec? (James, you handle Jazz and Alec?) " I look at Edward's dark tall frame through my lashes, soaking it up. There's the Italian that curls my toes.

"Laurent lo fa già. (Laurent's already on it) " James replies. It's the first time I've heard him maintain a conversation in the language.

Edward nods, turning his attention to his uncle who's got his eyes closed, facing the ceiling with his head dropped back. "Roy, va bene? (Roy, you good?) "

Royce smiles crooked despite the tired, pained look in his devilish eyes when he opens them. Green. "Vivere, il nipote. Sempre vivere. (Living nephew. Always living.) "

Edward grins, sinking into a lounger, pulling me with him. I end up nestled into his body as he leans back lazily. His muscles tensed and bunched up beneath me stretch and I swear, hurt or not, this wickedly attractive criminal will be the death of me. I groan internally as he settles me against him better until his chest serves as my backrest and I can easily feel his breath at the side of my face and down my neck when he speaks.

"Bella." He says simply in introduction and I realize he's just all about talking because he elaborates no further.

I feel a shift in the air and look straight ahead to collide with Royce. He grins in hello, looking exactly how he did in the forest, the picture of Shadow Fang, regardless of what's going on, they never lose the wicked air surrounding them. I offer him a half-hearted wave and wolfish grin to mask my natural apprehension since I'm really out of my element.

"You've met Royce before." Edward continues, bouncing me on his leg once and speaking against my ear softly, sensing my unease. He wants confirmation that this is who I saw in the forest. Royce offers it on behalf of me.

"Red Riding Hood."

"Jesus, does everyone you know have an aversion to my name." I whisper under my breath.

Edward chuckles beneath me and I don't understand why until his uncle speaks again.

"I was going out on a limb when I saw her, wasn't certain who she was and if your story was for real. But then I figured if any fucker's crazy enough to fucking go after his rival's girl, it's probably my muthafucking nephew."

I feel Edward's smile against my shoulder. He kisses the back of my neck, licking a slow circle at his prize on his lap. I shiver involuntarily. He's tired but his thumb rubs my outer thighs lightly when he feels me stiffen when I finally draw up the brainpower and comprehend the words. Nervous, I pull my hair into a ponytail, gathering 'Red Riding Hood' has more to do with the big bad Wolves than it does with finding me in the forest, though both are very convenient for the title. Cocky, smug ass bastard-ness must run in Edward's family. I laugh on the inside, even though I'm rigid on the outside.

Royce catches my movement and smirks with his eyes reassuringly. "Don't fret cara (dear/darling). I couldn't care less."

He says it so easily I have a hard time believing him until he leans back, really unaffected by my family ties because he's THAT sure of his nephew. His lack of concern is peculiar, peaking my interest, considering how pissed everyone else constantly seems to be about the Wolves. But if Royce planned on speaking to me some more it needed to be pushed to a later date, the man was in some serious pain.

As if I need the confirmation I watch him wince, his eyes closed tight. He sputters a bit and blood stains his shirt when he clutches at his abdomen. I recall Edward saying he was cut up.

"Edward?" I whisper. He tilts his head toward me. "Your uncle's bleeding. A lot."

His brows furrow and his jaw sets. A grim look mars his face. "He's pretty banged up."

"How deep's the cut?" I question because he's been on the run for God knows how long, if he's been like that for a long period of time, he needs help. Now.

Edward's face says it all. I'm clearly not the first to have thought of this. Green orbs watch me intensely before he drops his head back exasperated. I know the feeling too well. In this line of work there's no simple visit to ER or a doctor. You need someone who isn't likely to be sighted by cops. Those people are far and few here. It's well known that aside from the gangs everyone is pretty straight-laced in town. Speaking from personal experience, in La Push, for the most part, Leah and I are relied on to fix up the guys when they're too messed up or stubborn to do it themselves. It's in no way pleasant for either party.

"I'm working on it Cappuccinetto." He says. The strain behind the words is not lost to me. I don't understand what the problem is. It's more than what's on the surface that much is for sure. He catches my gaze and shakes his head telling me not to ask. "Don't worry about it. I'll sort something out."

Clutching a couple of beers James collapses on the seat next to us. He hands one to Edward then holds his own to his swollen eye before tipping it back and taking a swig. "Sort out what?"

I miss Edward's tight jaw as he flips the top off the bottle and answer James on a knee-jerk reaction. "A doctor."

"Not Carlisle."

I freeze dead on the spot even though I'm not the one Royce is talking to. Granted I've known him a very short while, but I'm going to go out on a limb and assume that Royce seldom sounds like that. From the look of things around me I know I'm right. It's not a tone he usually uses. It's clear dismissal of the thought. Blunt but still casual and cool with only hints of disregard.

Carlisle? I swear to God I've heard that name before.

Edward doesn't seem fazed by any of this. "Wouldn't dream of it." he replies nonchalantly.

"We don't have anyone else man." James pipes in lazily, guzzling his beer like its water and reaching for another. Thirsty, this one.

Edward shrugs indifferently, his head still facing the ceiling. Royce catches it and sniggers shaking his head at Edward's behavior. Then James smirks because apparently none of the three give a flying fuck. I stare at each man bewildered.

"You're crazy." I whisper to Edward.

"Yeah?" he opens one eye to look at me. The corner of his lip twitches. "Why's that?"

"I'm assuming Carlisle is doctor—"

"Among other things." He interrupts me, straight-faced. I can detect mischief twinkling in his eyes.

James snorts his beer back out his mouth at some inside joke and I swear to God, I think he says, " that's one way to put it Cullen ", under his breath.

I ignore them and the person I cautiously see enter the house but trail in the doorway. He's a young guy, with dark brown hair and under the dirt and grime, he's wearing Shadow Fang colors and a ridiculous amount of cuts and bruises too. He should just walk right in really, he'd be right at home here.

"Edward your uncle needs a doctor. He's weak as it is and God knows how much blood he's losing." I add as an afterthought, going over it some more all my deliberations are increasingly worrying, I might end up volunteering myself. "Cleaning it up isn't going to help him much if it's deep. Someone's gotta stitch him up."

Edward peers at me for a lot longer than required for those simple words. I squirm a little. He doesn't react on the outside but I see the smile in his eyes. "We'll stitch him up here, piccola (baby). Tor'll take care of it, don't stress." He dismisses easily.

I smile a little smug on the inside. That's that then. The upside of having a hard life? You're naturally innovative to ensure you survive.

Just then I see Waylon walk across to the bar for some ice. Edward's grin is so huge and amused I don't even need to see it to know it's there. I can feel it!

Smug bastard.

I look from Waylon to Edward but he ignores my questioning gaze, offering me no explanation. I don't need one. I should've guessed something was up when he told Jake those were 'his cops' the night after my dare trouble. Why else would a cop be in such a rush to protect the restaurant of a criminal from even minor theft.

"What are you still doing here?" he asks instead.

I lie. "We were about to leave before you guys got here." At my answer behind him Rose and Toria release breaths I'm not sure they're aware they were holding. "Can you take me home instead?" Consequences and alibi be damned. I scan his injuries, I needed more time with him.

He must've sensed it too because next thing I know he's pulling us both up. "Yeah."

My fingers remain fisted in his shirt. He doesn't make any move to pry it off. Pulling me into his side with an arm around my shoulder he calls over my head that he's out.

We don't make it far.

"The fuck—" Emmett sidesteps Rose to peer at the entryway, the movement grabs our attention and a chain reaction of violence ensues.

Edward follows Muscleman's gaze and his face drops from calm to damn near arctic in 0.1 seconds flat. He's across the room. The burning sensation of the material pulling free from my hold plays on my fingertips the only reminder that he was ever within grasp in the first place. A bone crushing crunch follows drawing my attention back to the guy I'd seen earlier.

"Edward."

A chorus of his name escapes Rose and my lips but it falls on deaf ears.

"E— Man— I didn't know—" His tone is strained from his awkward position. "They came in from everywhere— I reacted— I didn't see the others— I cleaned up everything— Everything's cool E. It's taken care of."

"Really?" Edward's voice could cut diamonds. "Then where the fuck are Jazz and Alec? Cause I don't see them."

"I didn't—" the guy can't continue as he wheezes for breath.

"Who made the shot Riley?" Edward asks, walking forward with trembling fury. Riley flinches. He tries to explain but Edward's not listening. "Who made the shot?" this time louder.

Far behind Edward, I flinch with Riley.

He opens his mouth again but at this point Edward's right in his face. Fists wrathfully balled, face locked in a dark, murderous rage. His sharp eyes narrow to cold slits. " WHO. MADE. THE. SHOT?! "

Riley breaks.

"I DID—"

He's plugged against the wall faster than anyone can react to.

"E, c'mon, not like shit can change now." Reluctantly, Emmett tries to reason with Edward when Rose grabs onto his huge bicep in a silent plea for him to do something because Riley's growing more and more frantic for breath in her cousins' hold. It's a very weak attempt to stop Edward though. Muscleman's eyes are as hard and void of leniency as Edward's are.

No one moves towards them. Even when Riley starts kicking his legs in struggle, Edwards grip on his neck doesn't loosen.

"His mistake" Edward seethes in a low, uncaring tone, "got two of my men cuffed." No emotion shows on his face, it's like he's in a different universe from us. I'd tell him to stop if I didn't figure out Jasper and 'Alec' got arrested because of miscalculations on Riley's part. "Give me one fucking reason why I shouldn't ice you right now Biers?"

My eyes grow to saucers and just like that I decide against my impassive approach.

Riley chokes and wheezes. His hands clutch onto Edwards' trying to pry them off him as his face turns from red to blue and slowly edges its way to purple.

"What's that?" Edward tightens his grip. His tone impassive and daunting. "You need to speak up Biers. Your blind shot alerted the Feds. You know it and I know it." His fingers flex again, digging into his flesh almost at the point of snapping his windpipe. "I can't hear you Biers. One reason?"

"Edward."

Rose's eyes dart to me, a mixture of gratitude, desperation and fear.

"Il nipote, lascia andare il ragazzo. (Nephew, let the boy go)" Royce says in a voice similar to Edward's usual one. The unaffected-by-jack-shit voice. Only it sounds a little less sexy to my ears.

Yes, crazy. I'm crazy. I'm watching my boyfriend threaten the life of another human being and recalling that he sounds sexy when he speaks Italian. Crazy! I'm losing my Goddamn mind.

"Abbiamo altri problemi per affrontare. (We got other problems to deal with.) Kid won't make the same mistake again. Will you kid?" He continues switching back to English when addressing Riley and I'm brought back to the present.

Riley's close to blacking out. He tries to nod his head despite his plight and fails. His eyes flutter frantically as he desperately tries to convey his compliance.

"He said okay! He agrees! Jesus, Edward! "

I don't even realize it's me that's spoken until several pairs of eyes dart to me save my boyfriend, Emmett and James.

"Il nipote, lascia andare il ragazzo. (Nephew, let the boy go)" Royce repeats with little stress even though he's standing up.

Edward unlocks his fingers from Riley's throat and watches dispassionately as he collapses to the floor.

Riley's hands clutch at his throat to soothe the ache under the angry finger marks on his neck. He coughs and gulps air in one huge, busting lungful after the next, looking like he's going to pass out any second. Crawling with one hand to his throat to keep him upright, he fights desperately for consciousness when his eyelids droop.

"Don't cross me Biers." Edward warns with low venom staring at him at his feet. "Don't forget how I got here. One move that says you crossed me and by the time I'm through with you there won't be a muthafucker on the street that will take you. It won't end well for you Riley." There's unmistakable promise in his words even though his face is a serene mask of nonchalance.

Someone's arm brushes against mine as they step forward. I don't have to turn to recognize the blonde hair in my peripheral vision. Rosalie.

"How often does he stop at Royce's request?" I whisper, still looking ahead, slightly shaken by the whole experience.

"Counting that time?" she whispers back. "One." Then she turns a bit more to look directly at me, all kinds of bewildered at the next words she speaks. "And it wasn't Royce that he stopped for, Bella…"

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

The ride is quiet in the dark car as I bury my face into Edward's hoodie. He's seething at the thought of Jasper and Alec in the can. Waylon will be able to pull some strings when he reports back on Sunday. It brings me down a bit too, both that he's worried and that Jasper's in the slammer. I know for a fact that a lot of the Shadow Fangs tolerate me. I'm not dumb. There's no way in hell that the whole damn gang likes me. I couldn't really care less. No gang would be pleased at a rival bitch being brought into their territory regardless of who she's with. Heck just last month, if Sam rocked up with a girl affiliated with the Shadow Fangs, I would've knocked her into 6 years from now, while Rachel and Leah sedated his crazy ass. The Shadow Fangs tolerate me out of either fear or respect for Edward. Which one of the two doesn't really matter because, in our world, fear and respect go hand-in-hand and Edward's skillfully earned both. So yes, they tolerate me to save their own asses but Jasper and James are kind of different. We're not close and, unlike Tyler, they don't go to school with me for me to have that excuse, but they're nice enough either way and I like them for it. The thought of Jasper in prison bums me out.

The only thing keeping my mood afloat right now is tall, dark and handsome beside me. There's a shit-eating grin on my face hidden under his hoodie, I know it and so does he.

"Just say it already." Breaking me out my thoughts, he runs his hand carelessly up my thigh, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

"No."

He scoffs. "You will eventually."

He sounds so certain I'm in love with him, I turn away and stare hard out the window, watching a very important street zoom by. My one.

"Edward?"

He runs his hand higher up and my body flames. "Hmm?" he hums, deceivingly innocent, still staring ahead out the windshield.

Oh hell.

"You gotta take me home." I grab his arm and he hisses. It's from pain. Unwittingly, I roll up his sleeves to break the trance and damn near hurl when I see the slashes ripped through his arm. When his eyes open again, they're burning black with something more primal and hungry.

"That's where I'm taking you." He responds.

My eyes dart up to his searing gaze on me. I swallow thickly, literally shaking my head to clear it. I move away from him to gain some perspective.

"Edward home is the other way." I remind him in case he forgot where I live… Hoping he forgot where I live and that's why he's driving in the opposite direction from my street.

I open the glove compartment. I half expect him to stop me but he doesn't so I easily rummage through the personal shit in his car. Moving aside the automatic, shifting the black fingerless gloves, snatching up the torch I find so I can see better. First thing I spot with the added light are his cigarettes. I pocket them and I hear him chuckle but I ignore him when I finally see something useful to me.

"No. Home is this way." he counters. "I just let you live somewhere else for now."

I swallow hard and my pulse quickens. He changes gears, obstructing my attempts to tend to his arm. Completely unaware of how his words affect me as he drives us to the warehouse.

Willing myself to stay focused and remember that even though it seems this way to me, Edward and I are in reality. We are not the only people in the world. I start dabbing at his cuts with the tissue from my pocket, soaking up the excess blood before wrapping it with the bandana from his glove box. I feel his eyes on me but we don't say anything.

"Edward my dad will be home." I try to reason but once again I've underestimated Edward's foresight and uncanny ability to know things he very well shouldn't.

"No." he answers.

I whip my head to look at him and sure enough he looks certain of the words escaping his tempting bruised lips.

"I need Jasper and Alec transferred to Seattle." He says easily.

I stare at him blankly, blinking in a way that says, this is supposed to mean something to me?

He laughs under his breath, then smiles softly at me, finding me adorable for some reason. Then he switches into his usual calculating, impenetrable gangster mode. Absentmindedly he slowly trails his fingers in circles on the inside of my thigh. I shiver.

"Charlie has no fucking clue the amount of brass I've got in my pocket down in Seattle." He chuckles. Dark humor. "But it doesn't matter, with two Shadow Fangs in custody? He's not going to trust the system to transport them to fucking Seattle." He finishes and I'm speechless for a while.

True and true. Lord have mercy, this just got easier. No wonder he didn't bitch and moan about the Tori alibi. Notorious gangsters in custody? Dad won't be home until he personally sees that they're handed over to Seattle in cuffs. That leaves me free for tonight and the morning at best, maybe even noon. I feel the sudden urge to hug Jasper and Alec. Then I feel a little guilty about it. They might be getting out thanks to the crooked cops on Edward's payroll but they're still in jail right? Right.

"Call the mutt's place and tell his ol' lady you're staying with a friend tonight."

My jaw drops. I gape at him. I'm fucking floored. There's just no way in fucking hell he knows Dad makes me stay with Sarah when he's delayed at work! It wasn't even a habit of ours for that long! We only started doing it since someone tried to break in a few months back and thankfully dad got home early that night! I'm usually at home because dad and I get limited time together so he tries to soak up as much time as he can on school days. How does Edward know any of this?

How long's he been watching me? I realize something that makes my body feel like it's been hit by a freight train. I'm never going to be able to stop it... It's inevitable that I will fall…But I'm falling head first for someone I don't know…

He tosses his phone at me when I don't retrieve my own and I'm brought out of my thoughts. The raw, rigid beauty of his face takes my breath away. He smiles crookedly and my heart flutters traitorously at his voice.

" Midnight. "

Huh? In a knee-jerk response, I look at the glowing screen of his cell in my lap. 00:00. He smirks and tucks some of my flying hair behind my ear, a gesture so sweet it's in stark contrast to the devilish playfulness in his bright, green eyes and promise in his dark velvet voice.

" Friday's over. "

~.~.~D&D~.~.~

I feel awful as Edward pulls into his warehouse. Sari believed me so easily just because I'm the good offspring. Apparently, Jake hasn't been home since a quick shower yesterday morning. It's usual Jake behavior, no one is fazed by it anymore.

I feel bad but I need to be here with Edward, especially tonight when he's hurt and bleeding. I want to be with him, take care of him, hopefully get to know him a little more!

Metallic squealing in the background as he pulls down the garage door behind us sets reality in. I'm alone here with Edward for the weekend. I have a ghost of terror in the pit of my stomach. Was I really expected to have sex with him?

"Bella?" he turns towards me. "What's wrong? She say okay?"

"Yeah," I clear my throat. It throws me that he sounds like he'd care if I was going to get into trouble with Jacob Black's mom. "She thinks I'm with Angela again."

Internally my stomach turns because I used her name by mistake, not knowing where exactly we stood.

"Good." He smiles, walking towards me.

I feel guilty. He does care. Because Sarah's like my mom and I'd care.

"How's your arm?" I trail my fingers down the bandana covered flesh and feel his eyes follow the movement. He flexes his bicep in reply and laughs throatily when I gasp at the deliciously large ball of muscle. My face flames. "Good then." I groan at how husky my voice sounds. I clear my throat again.

He chuckles, kissing the top of my head and linking our fingers. He guides us away from the darkness of the garage area.

"How can you see anything?" I laugh quietly at how expertly he maneuvers us through the clutter in the almost pitch blackness.

"Shadows are my thing, remember?" He deadpans.

I can hear the smirk in his voice even if I can't see it.

We cross the floor, illumination straight from the moon through the large overhead windows makes the middle area glow. We reach the kitchen at the far end and when he switches on the light I remember an important piece of information.

"I don't have anything to wear." I say.

"No complaints here."

My body blazes with fires so hot I'm straight fucking sure, the flame burning in my blood vessels from my ears to my dripping core, were stolen from the depths of hell itself. I can paint a picture of how deeply my eyes dilate staring at his back as he washes the blood and dirt from his hands in the sink, eyeing the cooler in his fridge the entire time.

My feet move towards it to distract myself already knowing what he's looking for.

"Edward!" I yell in protest opening the door to the fridge with too much force.

He turns away from the sink and hits me with his megawatt lopsided smile as I snatch a beer up for him and look around for an opener.

"Relax anima gemella," he takes it out my hand and flicks the top off on the countertop. "I got shit for you to put on."

I watch his Adams apple bob as he takes a long swig. Focus Bella, focus. I coach myself in my head. It doesn't work too well honestly. I nearly die when he wipes the moisture from his lip with the back of his wrist.

"Edward you need to clean those up." I look away from the aphrodisiac that is my boyfriend and focus on the blood covering parts of him.

He cocks a brow when I tug at his shirt but lifts his arms up without protest so I can look at his back.

"Shower." I clarify. The higher his shirt goes the shallower my breathing does until finally it stops all together. "You're hurt." My eyes gently trace the bruises and cuts along his lower back just below his ink. It's definitely the result of failed stab attempts and a scuffle. I say a small thanks to whoever is up there that it's nothing serious. "Shower now."

He crosses his arms at the hem, peeling the shirt straight off him and turning to me with a smirk.

His dog tags hang over his heart and my IQ drops to negative figures once brown eyes dilate to black and trail down the happy path of rock hard rippling muscle. Dropping from his defined pecs, my gaze paints each and every ab that's gloriously locked on his torso, hungrily trailing down the dusting of dark hair at his navel leading down to the enormous homeland that lies below the deep V that dips down into his low hanging jeans. My mouth's suddenly dry. I lick my lips, watching with drunken eyes.

"Wanna help me?"

YES!

"No." I shoot my eyes up to his sinfully cocky ones. He smirks lopsided, his sharp pearly whites gleaming in the light of the kitchen. Breathing is becoming a problem again. This place is huge, it can't be claustrophobia.

"Sure?" he takes a dangerous step forward. "I'm hurt." Liar. "I can't reach everywhere." A serious edge to the playful tease.

My back thumps into the countertop, I'm backed up. "Ed—" I take a huge gulp of air to make my voice work properly again. "Go shower Shadow Fang, I think you'll survive."

He chuckles dipping down and pressing his lips to mine. I press mine to his harder licking his lips. I taste his flesh, tender on the salty cuts. My body sways into him suddenly thrilled that I get to be here with him. If anything had happened to him tonight… I ghost my fingers up his back tracing the small, bleeding slashes. Let's not go there. I stretch up on my tiptoes to reach him better when he hisses into my mouth. This kiss is different from everything we've experienced so far. His hands steady my hips when I reach my petite height's limit next to his towering, lean-muscled stature.

Slipping his tongue into my mouth, he curls it around mine, slippery, wet and needy. Matching me, push for pull. I pull my tongue back just to check his reaction and smile when his darts after mine like a bloody snake. Wrapping and sucking, he pulls it back into his mouth forcefully, pouring things into this kiss I'm not sure he wants me to know. He nibbles on my bottom lip and hisses when I return the favor, sucking on the reopened cut my light bite causes. I lick it slowly trying to sooth the pain. Coating the tip of my tongue with the intoxicating red saltiness of him as his breath fans out across my face making me heady.

"Sorry…"I whisper to him, raising my eyes under my lashes and dying a small death when I meet his. All that's left are small, lightening flecks of green in his now striking, black, hungry ones.

He looks at me a little longer. Searching. Swallowing. "Anima gemella." Then kissing the top of my head, he whispers something softly that sounds like, 'you don't know what you're doing to me', but I can't be sure.

"What?" I ask. The breathlessness hasn't left yet and I'm not sure if my ears work properly.

He shakes his head. "I'm gonna shower. House is all yours 'kay?"

I nod. "Good, 'cause I'm starving."

He chuckles and backs up, taking the stairs two at a time to the next floor. I can't help but look around again. The place is beautiful and unique. Like him.

Opening the fridge I'm surprised to find actual meals inside along with various microwavable ones. Pulling out a glass dish, I slide off the top and smile when I see lasagna. It takes a while to find the right drawer but eventually I pull out two plates and cut a helping for me with a slightly larger one for him.

He. Will. Eat.

After popping it in the microwave I moan through my first bite. It tastes divine! Then when I look at his plate sitting across the counter from me I remember that I need him to do a bit more than eat tonight. I need to learn something about him, anything about him. I need something tangible. Real in every sense of the word. I want to lose my virginity to him, I know that. It's not even a choice anymore. It's coursing through my veins, he's the one. I can feel it from my heart to my soul to my burning core but I will not be able to look myself in the eye if I lose it to a guy I know only a handful of gang facts about…

I don't need to utilize my relatively high brainpower to know that it might be easier said than done.

'Gangster 101', by Bella Swan. Today class, we will go over the tendency of gang individuals to be extremely secretive as a result of their chosen 'profession'. Please slip on your spy gear so we can find innovative ways to try and bypass this innate, high capacity to withhold information. Hand going up in the front row?

Withhold sex.

Er, second row?

Tell him you're withholding sex.

Sex, sex, sex! Third row?

You're a sneaky bitch. Stop talking to yourself and figure it out.

And number 3 wins by a landslide for blunt honesty. Bitch.

I hear his footfalls on the stairs and snap myself out of my musings. Spying the pool table as he walks into the kitchen causes a wicked smirk to stretch across my face… Oh yeah, that'll do.

I wipe the look off my face quickly as he stops at the counter and raises a brow at me. I shrug and jab my fork to his plate.

"Eat up." I order. He sits, eyeing me curiously. I speak, wiggling my brows at him. He looks taken aback for a second then smirks. "You know a Shadow Fang shouldn't trust food laid out by a dot dot dot family member?"

His grin stretches wider at my omission of the gang's name but he humors me with his usual control. "Yeah?" he asks.

I nod vigorously. He breaks off a huge forkful of lasagna and wolfs it down, looking gorgeous as ever in his fresh-out-the-shower look. Wet, tousled hair, dark colors and sinful smile as he catches me eye him.

"A dot dot dot family member wouldn't poison me when they had no way of getting out of here." he retorts.

"Pshht." I swallow some coke while he opens another beer and makes his way to the barstool again. "I'd totally hotwire your car if I can't find the keys."

His eyes convey clearly the thrilling amusement he's gets out of this answer. "Really?" he laughs brilliantly at full force. "And you, of course, would know how to hotwire a car."

"Hmm." I nod, donning my best innocent look. I high-five myself internally when his eyes darken a little. "You'd teach me, Shadow." I look at him through my lashes, dropping my voice a little more.

He smirks, taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose. I feel my inner Bella whistle, Daaaamn B, before he collects his shit.

"And all of this," he taunts in amusement, " before I choke."

I smirk back. "Of course you would." I know it's true. "If you knew I'd be stuck here, you totally would."

His megawatt grin does weird things to me. He doesn't contest it. "Takes a shitload more than poison to kill me piccola. (baby)"

"I'll keep that in mind." I don't know why I'm teasing this man but I'm loving every second of it.

"Yeah?" he asks, popping a forkful of lasagna in his mouth and chewing with a tauntingly sexy smirk. "And who's going to save you when that doesn't work? Your savior's just left Forks." He taps the ink on his arm reminding me Charlie's heading to Seattle with two of his boys.

"No, he hasn't." I look right at him. A small smile plays on my lips when I see him catch my meaning.

"Living in the shadows of hell— Baby, the hero? No. I'm the bad guy." He's dead serious.

Yes. But not to me.

I shrug, saying nothing.

"So your savior am I?" It sounds unfathomable to him. He chuckles, his brows arched incredulously over his amused eyes.

I smile and grab his plate, dumping his and mine in the sink instead of answering. I feel him on my back, warm and strong, towering over me. I take a calming breath before turning to face him.

"Edward?"

"What is it?" he asks, resting his arms on either side of me without making contact with my body.

I have to keep my eyes shut so that I can concentrate enough to go through with my plan. I feel his curious eyes on me, burning into my skin. Then I bite the bullet.

"Play pool with me?"

At the look on his face I wish I had a camera.

"Wha—? You want to shoot pool?" he qualifies disbelievingly. "Now?"

Boy if you only knew… Focus Bella. Focus!

"Yupp." I saunter past him to the middle of the warehouse searching for the light switch. I hear him say 'higher on the left' as he walks past me.

Finally finding the switch I flick on the light with a smile as I hear him rack 'em up.

"Just one minor detail." I say quietly.

Using the table for leverage I pull myself up until I'm seated on the felt top, watching him roll the triangle to its position. I swing my crossed legs over the edge offering him a view of the gauze on my right thigh. Head lowered, strands of hair fall into his dark green eyes as looks at me, his hands frozen on the triangle. I swear Edward looks at me like he's going to eat me. He swallows. I grin internally.

"Go easy on me?" I ask sweetly, handing him the cue.

His lips twitch and his eyes dance but he nods as he takes it from me and walks around to my side so he can break. I slide off brushing against him lightly before I step away. He shakes his head and lets out a deep breath that makes me smirk on the inside again before leaning over.

I watch the muscles of his extended arm on the table, his tattoo and the wounds below it flexing with each movement while he's lining up his shot. His eyes mentally cut the table with perfect precision then he draws back and makes a clean break with a loud clap as the balls make contact and fly in different directions all over the table.

Now I'm the one that needs to release deep breaths.

One solid and one stripe drop into the top pockets.

"Which you want?"

I hear him say 'want' and wanna say, 'All of it!' But thankfully I remember there is a purpose I've been placed here for. God, I've been inside a church what, three times all my life? And now he' making me biblically dramatic!

"Stripes." I say quickly before I start appearing retarded.

I hear another crack as he knocks down the next shot making the ball curl at the pocket and stop before falling in. As promised he's going easy on me. He straightens up with a smirk, impish soft gaze on me.

I grab a spare cue and walk around the table to the white. I line up my shot then send the white towards my stripe which rolls to the pocket but stops, never reaching it.

I look back at him and shrug. His eyes are dancing with mirth but he says nothing. We repeat our process until he finally he gives up and just sinks one of his shots. I throw a tantrum!

"Bella, we're gonna be at this all night at this rate." He doesn't hold back the husky laugh from his gut this time at my lack of skill.

I bite back a beam. He looks so good when he smiles. Carefree. I wish he'd do it more often. It almost makes me forget my motive. Just not quite.

"Fine." I petulantly slide my hand across the table sending the balls flying in every direction. "One more game." I cross my arms over my chest, fiercely stubborn.

My annoying habits must be cute to this one because he chuckles low under his breath but relents. " One. "

"'kay, and I get to ask you a question for everyone that I get in. And I will get many!" I narrow my eyes at him while turning on his sound system, daring him to call me a bad player even though my last game sucked, hard!

"Whatever you want Cappuccinetto." He hands me his cue to save time after breaking with a solid pocketed followed by another one before he miscues for my benefit.

I snatch it from him while Breaking Benjamin runs in the background.

"I'll go easy on you and use that for my first question." I say, ignoring his cocky grin I walk to the table bobbing my head to Lights Out. Finally dropping my act I slam my cue forward knocking the stripe straight into the top right pocket and stand back smugly when I see his stunned expression morph into a sinister grin as he realizes I've just played him. I wiggle my brows at him. "Why do you call me a 'little cappuccino'?"

He throws his head back, fisting his hands in his hair painfully tight, his body shakes from the force of his husky laugh. "Diavolo, mi fai morire. (Fucking hell, you're killing me baby.)" he groans with dark eyes.

I tap my foot and lean on the cue while I wait for him to rejoin my English conversation. He does, with a sinful grin, shaking his head and calming his breaths a little.

"Your hair's brown." he nods towards me. "It's a fairly nice bonus that your eyes match them too shortstuff." He adds as an afterthought, smirking when I huff at him on the quip on my height.

How's it my fault he's so tall? He appraises my petite figure, his gaze lingering on my thighs in ways that makes me wonder if he's thinking about them wrapped around his waist.

"Says the guy with blonde bimbos left and right." I snipe. "Except Rose." I add quickly. Rose is cool.

"I'll have to tell James, Jazz and Caius how you feel about them then." He deadpans with an eye roll.

I miscue to return his favor and he sinks his next shot then straightens up.

"I prefer brunettes." He says seriously. "Let your hair down Bella."

I cock a brow. "What?"

"How's it fair? You're having all the fun." He pouts. Mocking sincerity as he leans his side against the table. "Give me a piece of your clothing every shot I make."

My eyes darken. He doesn't miss it.

"C'mon you like dares." His voice drops an octave coaxing me. Challenging me. "I dare you."

"I'll go easy on you." His voice drips sex as he braces himself for the next shot waiting for his winnings. Condescendingly making use of my earlier words he leans forward, watching me over the table until I undo my hair. "Give me your hair band Bella."

"Fine." Undoing my hair is the perfect distraction. I shove his pool cue forward with my hip as I walk past and slam the elastic hair band on the table. Watching him growl at the miscue, I cockily snuggle into my clothes for effect. "It's going to be a warm game." I quip, smugly.

He straightens, accepting the challenge. I'm not fooled, there's wicked fire burning in his eyes. It's so on now.

I scamper off quickly to the other side of the table to make my shot from a far enough distance so he can't distract me. One more ball down.

"How'd you end up starting Shadow Fangs?" Is my next question.

"Ran away from home at 12."

I nearly fucking die. He laughs with a brilliant smile, enjoying the reaction.

"Family didn't need kids as bad as they needed order." He shrugs. "Knew where Roy lived so I went there. He took me under his wing." He ends off in a way that says, 'and the rest is history' but I straighten up, signaling him to continue.

He does, in utter boredom of the topic.

"He lived in a shady area back then and he had to go out a lot but no one hassled me. Too scared of him. James lived in the same building. We met by mistake, became quick friends." By the way he glosses over it I know there's more to that story than he's letting on. The amused twitch playing at the corner of his lips makes me wanna dive inside his head and see what he's seeing in his faraway mind. "Jazz had his own shit, his dad's crazy as fuck." Spoken with perplexed humor he goes on. "By 15, he had him signed up for every muthafucking extra class known to man. He rebelled. Family trend." The mischief in his smirk makes me smile too. He goes on, bored again. "Next thing I know, Roy's out on a job and someone's pounding on my door at the dead of fucking night. I was tired as fuck that night too, if it was anyone but him they would've left in a wheelchair. Roy wouldn't turn us away even when he had to split. He left us with the place. Lived there for a while. We were cocky bastards, we were good and we knew it. Could do anything, so we did. We ran with a rough crowd, there was a fallout. One thing lead to another and next thing we know we were running a rough crowd."

"You took out Raven Dynasty." I complete the story for him. Everyone knew that the Shadow Fangs took out the former gang running in Forks. It added to the fear surrounding the enigmatic Edward Cullen and his members. RD was hardcore and far too strong. It was unfathomable that a gang so young could cause such an uproar and come into power yet they did.

"With a little help from the uncle and his mate." He smirks, his eyes cold. "We took out Raven Dynasty."

I swallow unable to speak so I line up my next shot deciding to go for something easy to follow up with. He's answering so honestly I don't want to take advantage of it and pry. I make the difficult pocket and watch him tilt his head and appraise the shot with a crooked grin. It does weird things to my tummy.

"You went to Forks High?"

He snorts at the drastic change of pace in my line of questioning. He answers but doesn't mention the name of the school. "I had to go to school. Could do whatever the fuck I wanted just as long as I got my ass to fucking school. One fucking thing Roy never swayed on."

I line up my next shot and he chooses then to stretch free his stiff muscles. I see a small sliver of his hard stomach under his shirt and the stripe misses the pocket completely. "Shit." I cuss.

He grabs one of the cues closest to him and pockets his solid with the speed and immaculate precision of a striking cobra. I'm stunned speechless.

"Lose the jacket."

I barely have his hoodie fully off me when I freeze, drinking him in. He lights a cigarette. I watch fascinated as it dangles from his lips while he lines his next shot. He inhales deeply making his next pocket, then stands up, releasing the smoke through his nose. Finally, his fingers reach up and touch the stem of the burning demon. He smiles crooked.

"Take off your shoes."

I toe them off with my socks and hold my breath watching his lean muscles flex as he makes the next one. The white rolls the solid to the corner pocket, expertly coming to a stop just before falling in.

Bastard, intentionally blocked off my only direct shot!

"Yours." He hands me the cue, I snatch it in a huff, ignoring his knowing grin.

Reeling in my raging hormones I aim directly across the table, draw back my cue and send the white flying. It hits the cushion and deflects proficiently to my stripe on the left, neatly sinking it into the pocket I'm standing at.

"Tell me about Royce?" If he's going to play like that then I may as well ask one of the questions that have been bugging me lest this game end too soon. "And this time no evasive one-liners." I shake my head. "I want it all because I almost went through the motions of getting myself arrested to save his ass for you, thinking you were locked up! And he looks so young to be your uncle!" I don't realize I'm rambling out everything on my mind. "And you all look so happy in pictures with him! And his last names King but yours is Cullen—"

"Whoa, ease up piccola." He halts my word train, his shoulders shaking with mirth as he holds his palms up in surrender. I quietly watch a shadow fall over him as he leans against the table and tips back his beer. Taking a lazy drag out his cigarette, smoke seeps from his lips with each word. "Uncle Roy's a son-of-a-bitch. Cold, hard, ruthless." The words are prideful, hanging in the air as he takes another drink, putting out the cigarette. Riveted, I wait in the silence for him to continue. "He's as dangerous as I am, probably more." I find that hard to believe but say nothing to distract him.

"Gang?" I question instead. This is one subject I want and will demand information on. He must see it too because he lowers his walls fractionally to let me in on something I know holds importance to him.

He shakes his head. No. "The gang was more my thing but he helped."

I want to know more. How. Why. But I let him continue the way he wants.

"Roy's in with something bigger." It takes him a while to search for a word before he settles on 'bigger'. He's being vague. I know it. Again, I let it slide because he's always honest with me about the important stuff. He goes on. "But he pulls jobs exclusively. Crafty as fuck and he has a lot of connections."

Sounds like someone else in the family there tiger.

"He built himself up from nothing." Edward sinks his teeth into him lip, irritating the wound. I furrow my brows at this because he doesn't sound right when he says it, he catches it. "King's his mother's last name." he qualifies. "Alistair— my grandfather, had an affair. Fucker refused the child afterwards." I might be imagining things but the more he speaks the easier it is to understand that Edward Cullen doesn't like his family. "Roy stayed with his ma till she died. He was 9 then so he had to live with Alistair." Oh fuck... He must've read my sympathy because he smiles, dismissing it from my mind. "All his cards were dealt bad so he figured his own shit out to survive. Like I said," the pride's back, he smirks, "crafty bastard."

We're quiet for a beat then he scoffs. "My family's made of money. Fucking loaded." Edward's rich. I know he's rich. Gangsters usually have money. I didn't know his family was. "A lineage of academic stiffs." He goes on. A humorless, sarcastic chuckle dripping with malice drifts to my ears entering my bloodstream and chilling my body from the inside out. "And all I've ever wanted to be was like the black sheep."

"Roy never fit in. Not that Alistair ever let him. He used mental walls to keep Royce away from his siblings. Carlisle's the eldest, naturally mature and all that bullshit, so he wasn't all bad. Despite the old geezer he tried to get along with Roy. Tried to set him on the straight and narrow," he laughs at the thought, "but Roy was Roy, so they had differences."

"Carlisle, my father." he clarifies realizing I don't know who he is.

I almost forget how to breathe. Edward's father is a doctor. The fuck? How does that happen? Whoever said the apple doesn't fall far from the tree should shut the fuck up. Right Now.

"He couldn't understand why Roy didn't live up to his potential. Stay out of trouble. At 24, in a lot of ways Carlisle was like Alistair. He didn't see his 11-year-old brother standing there after a beat down from Alistair for scraping his knees shooting hoops instead of doing extra cred or studying shit. He saw a boy messing up, threatening the family prestige by being something less than he should be." I hear the past tense and wonder if anything's changed before Edward's bitter laugh draws me out again and I push the thought for later. "When you pit his street smarts against their fucking GPA, they don't hold a candle to him. Roy's brilliant. I was born thanks to it."

Just like that, Royce King becomes my fucking hero.

I don't realize I'm leaning closer to him until his knuckles and mine touch. An electric shock pulses straight through his hand into mine and he snaps his eyes back to me with an intensity that knocks the breath right out my lungs. Reading my expression he goes on wanting to make me stop looking like someone killed my puppy. He runs a finger across my forehead ridding it of the wrinkles my frown caused.

"My ma has a soft spot for him." He says indifferently. "She went into premature labor with me.

Royce was fucking 11. They were alone when she fell, he figured it'd take twice as much time for an ambulance or Carlisle to drive to the house then back to the hospital so he flagged down a fucking cab and got her to the Medical Center." He chalks up the cue unaffected by any of the words escaping his lips while my whole heart stops altogether at the magnitude of them. "Carlisle delivered me just in time, in the same fucking cab, before she lost me."

I fucking love Royce King.

I feel my eyes sting. It's insane even thinking of a world without Edward, I never want to think of a world without him. Watching him speaking now is surreal, he doesn't even think twice about letting me in. It's then that I figure out he just wanted to wait until after I met Royce before he gave me any information on the man in case something went wrong with the plan.

"The first Cullen 'heir' was born thanks to him." he shakes his head with cold eyes. "Eleazar and Elizabeth never got along with him at all. Resented him for being proof that his mother broke their mother's heart." There's no humor in his chuckle. "Muthafucking bullshit. His ma wasn't even fucking legal when she got knocked up. Alistair was to blame. He was the fucker married to Cynthia." He drifts off for a moment seething, and then gets back to his point, easing the tension in his shoulders so fast I think I imagined it there in the first place.

"They hate him to date. Roy doesn't give a shit though. Never held a grudge. Not his style." He must sense my confusion because he smiles with humor this time. "Right!" he smirks and I smirk too just because he's so animated right now. It fades fast as he continues, making way for a colossal stony expression. His voice turns arctic. "Eleazar, white collar lawyer, he's Jasper's old man. Then the youngest of Alistair and Cynthia's brood is Elizabeth, Rose's mother. Straight-laced accountant bitch. I can't stand her."

Nooo. Really? He sniggers at my facial sarcasm. A condescending grin weaves across his face, he whistles low, dark and dramatic at a new thought.

"Picture perfect family of Cullen's. All blonde-haired and green-fucking-eyed." He saunters to the kitchen. "Then a boy not meant for rules shows up. They had no idea how to fit him into their world. It was easier to forget about him and the inconvenience he brought."

I swallow thickly feeling sorrow for Royce, not only because Edward looks up to him so much, but because I can relate to that one personally on one count. Edward remains unaware of my musings as he opens the fridge. I turn to him at his snigger as he walks back opening a bottle of water. One look at the breathtaking smirk on his face and all is right again. I smile when he looks up. He takes a sip then hands me the bottle lifting me up to the table so he can stand between my open legs. I drink and he speaks.

"Twist of fate, when their kids were born, we fucking loved Roy." His shoulders shake with mirth but behind it it's a half amused half sinister mask. "He was the only real fucker in the house. On a fucking whim, he'd buy us shit just 'cause it reminded him of us. Helped us reach the cereal fucking box. Insignificant shit. I was the only grandchild living at the estate. Jazz was in Texas and Rose in Manhattan. He'd come in my room and draw the drapes during thunder storms so the shit wouldn't freak out the toddler. Stuff his ma used to do for him and he knew no one at the estate would think of doing for me."

Wow. I feel a tug in my chest as I watch him but I don't interrupt.

"As we grew it kinda pissed us the fuck off how he got treated. He was always left out in the family, fading to the background so he wouldn't disturb the peace when there were get-togethers on Christmas or any other fucking holiday. We never understood it at first, then one day Rosie's old lady slips up and blurts out, 'he's not her brother', with enough venom to poison the whole fucking family." It's almost tangible the way his aura turns black as night before my very eyes. I hold my breath and look at him. "He never said anything back. No matter what the fuck they did. He just breezed through it. Until one day when he was old enough he just fucking left. Nowhere to go and not a dollar in his pocket. At 16, just like how he came, he went. Wordlessly. With muthafucking nothing."

I feel my heart shudder. He shakes his head at some thought then laughs softly, hysterical and amused, his thumbs gently toying with my hip bones so I can stop offering him the water and feed it to him myself. I do, bringing the bottle to his lips so he can drink. His fingers dip a little lower until they tip into the waistband of my shorts. I lick my lips unconsciously and pull back the bottle from his moist lips, an inferno burning in his eyes that matches the one in my panty-less crotch.

"You know, when I was a kid I was spoilt muthafucking rotten." He chuckles softly in disbelief, his eyes rich with humor, looking me straight into mine. "An entire family with permanent sticks up their asses, but I was a regular, spoilt rotten kid till he left. Just cause he never wanted me to feel like he did in that house."

He lowers his head and sucks my pulse point. My nipples harden as his cold lips map my skin. "I bailed first chance I got, never looked back. Royce is a lethal muthafucker." I can tell he wants to close this conversation now because he's distracting me. So help me if I'm not going to let him. "He's nicer than I am." He bites my lobe and pulls down on the flesh. "Won't fuck up anyone off the handle. But he's a throw down guy. Back him in a corner, or mess with his kids, and he'll fuck the world over."

He steps back and my eyes must be black as death because whatever he sees in them frustrates him to the point that he groans low and cusses. "Here." He tosses the cue to me like the stick offends him.

I stifle a giggle because I know what's pissing him off now.

Lining up another shot, I sink it in one long, neat stroke. I can't help but notice how he watches the cue slide between my curled index and middle fingers. My breathing gets a little labored at how intensely he's watching me, predatorily statue still, my Adonis in the corner.

"How'd you know what Tanya said to me?"

He groans, put off. "I got the whole muthafucking town of Forks wired! How the fuck would I not know what happens in my own office?"

Ahh yes. I mentally smack myself. Recovering quickly I drop another ball, already having my next question. "You're running Forks. How'd you end up with Seattle feds on your payroll?"

"I'm a man of many talents."

Cocky bastard. I halt before taking my next shot, remaining braced on the table and look up at his tall dominating frame across the room through my lashes. With the shadows on his back he looks more mysteriously beautiful than I'm used to. His fingers ball into fists and release at his sides to free the tension he's feeling at having to hold back from touching me. I love it. The answers are coming shorter now because he's losing control. It both scares me and thrills me that I want him to snap.

"That's not an answer." I point out, still on the table, with my hair falling in a curtain against my left shoulder and spilling in brown waves onto the felt.

"Yes. It was." He speaks impatiently, almost growling through his clenched teeth. "Now take your shot."

I raise a brow and then something else occurs to me. "Are you not telling me because Charlie's my father?"

He looks flabbergasted. Completely and utterly shocked. "The fuck—? I trust you baby—"

I do cartwheels in my head at his slip up. A million butterflies attack my heart making it flutter wildly in time with its wings. Trying and failing to bite back my happiness I talk because, there's my next question!

"Why?" I exclaim. "How do you know me Edward? Why is this so intense?" I gesture crazily between us. "Why'd you choose me? A girl from a side you hate! It's insane! But here we are!"

He raises his brow so high it buries itself under his unruly copper hair, amused as fuck. Nonchalantly, he shoves his hands into his pocket and leans against the wall, cocking his head to the side condescendingly.

"That's four questions..." he shrugs the broad shoulders on his tall frame casually. "And you haven't even taken your shot yet."

Huh?

"What?" I whip my head away from him so quickly, the action unwittingly throws my cue forward making me miss my shot like a blindfolded Embry does a piñata.

Son of a bitch!

"That's not fair Edward!" I whine, outraged.

He laughs hysterically, his shoulders shaking from the force. "Neither's cock teasing me so you can milk information Bella." He calls my shit and pushes off the wall with the leg braced against it, digging his hands out his pockets. "Now give me the damn cue and grab your shirt."

He crosses the small floor space between him and the table at record speed. All I hear is the definitive thunderous clap of the ball as it makes contact and drops like Hammer.

"Lose your shirt Cappuccinetto. I dare you."

Huskiness coats his deep, velvet voice, low enough to be a whisper. His eyes never leave me, the shade growing darker with each ticking second. It's intense and makes me feel like, in this whole world, the only person Edward sees is me. It's a cross between burning passion and deep, deep, tortured want. It's so strong, it's teetering on the point of no return. I've never felt more adored and captivatingly beautiful in my life.

I swallow thickly, grinding my teeth and rubbing my tongue against the roof of my mouth to shake my anxiousness. Crossing my arms at the hem, I slip the material up with shaky hands. It peels off me in slow motion because I don't know what to do. Inch by inch, I feel the air kiss my skin. Despite the coolness of it, I feel a searing burn. He's watching me. I can't will myself to look up just yet and meet his eyes. My hair pools through the neckline as I pull the long sleeved cotton fully off making sure to keep my scar out of his view.

"Fuck." He groans low and gruff.

There's only one left till black. He knocks it down at freight train speeds.

"Shorts."

His voice is hoarse, his jaw clenches tightly, incapable of more than that one word when I raise timid, trembling fingers to the button of my jean shorts. I release it and take a huge breath to calm my growing nervousness. My breathing is weighty when I begin inching it down. The cold air hitting my heated core makes moisture trickle out little by little. My clit throbs and peeks out between the bare flesh at the arousal I'm feeling, the evidence of which makes the slit of my folds glisten with the extra moisture. I step out of my shorts, covered head to toe in a heated blush.

I look at him. It's like he can't move. He's predatorily still. Frozen to the spot. His immeasurably darkened green orbs rake over me. I'm completely bare to him. My nipples further harden painfully as he paints the canvas of my body with his devoted, lustful eyes.

In a blur of movement he leans to the table. Stray strands of his unruly hair fall into his intense black-as death eyes. He focuses on this next shot like it decides his life. Then the cue's slammed forward, the black eight ball shoots across the table and drops with dead-ringing finality into the pocket. It never stood a chance. Honestly. Neither did I…

He straightens up and looks almost tortured as he forces his feet to remain where they are. "Bella if I don't touch you now I'm going to lose my fucking mind."

I shudder with warmth at his strained, tortured tone, a cross between a demanding growl and patient plea. The perfect contradiction. Just like him.

He knew this entire time. The entire game, he knew I wasn't ready. He waited and played along, allowing me to try and get myself ready so he could take me. Providing anything I sought. Even answers to questions no one else I know would give me with that level of honesty. I suddenly feel just as overwhelmingly devoted to him. No one can ever be Edward to me. It has to be Edward. No. It is Edward. It's always been Edward.

"Then touch me."

It's all he needs to hear. He smirks breathtakingly wide. It's wicked and compelled. In the split second it takes for him to get to me, his shirt is no longer on. I feel like I won the fucking lottery when I'm slammed into his muscles, pulled flush against him.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~ MA content available on my journal and TWCS, info at the end .~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

I don't know how long we stay connected but eons could pass and I wouldn't want to lose the feel of him inside me. His forehead rests against mine, our breaths mixing as we pant heavily and try and come down from our highs.

He dips his head down and kisses me softly, sweetly. It's tender and devoted unlike the ones from when he was fucking me. "You're everything to me anima gemella."

I look at him as I lift my trembling hand and brush his matted hair off his forehead and out his eyes. He looks right back. The moment between us so intense, it's almost poetic that the moon bears witness to it.

"Shadow?" I whisper, kissing him in a quick soft peck.

He chuckles. "Yeah?"

I can't lose him, not after this. Everything I felt tonight. I feel too much for him. He's so important to me it hurts in my chest just thinking about it. When Charlie and everyone in La Push find out, there's just going to be mayhem, lots of it. There's no two ways about it. Hell will break loose. Would he fight for me even though the odds are stacked against us?

"A 'shadow' plays when it's bright but disappears at night, Edward?" I speak softly not wanting to disturb the hushed sounds of our breaths in his room.

His eyes deepen in intensity. "No." he brushes back my sweat drenched locks of hair. "Your Shadow doesn't disappear at night anima gemella." I smile at his words before I realize Edward knows exactly what I'm really asking. "When it's dark… that's when I shield you completely."

I inhale sharply on the inside but laugh softly on the outside trying to cover up my words quickly. Shaking my head against the sleep that's threatening to take over, I say. "You're Edward Cullen, leader of the Shadow Fangs. Feared by all. I bet you've never been scared of anything all your life. So what? You'll protect me when it gets dark?"

He pulls out, rolling off me and pulling my body with his until I'm pressed onto his sweaty chest as he lays on his back. The rise and fall of it lulls me towards sleep as we pant trying to catch our breath.

Sweaty and sated, I instinctively curl into his body cocooned in the after effects of our intimacy.

His scent making me heady, I'm losing myself to the calm accompanied by being held in his arms. I don't see the fierce burning eyes that lock onto me as I give in to the exhaustion.

"I'll protect you, always…" I hear the answer through the hazy curtain of sleep rapidly ensnaring me. "From anything." My breath catches. My heart beats rapidly. Not knowing if I'm dreaming or not. My lids are too heavy to open and check. "Ho paura perche non ti mai lascerò andare. Perfino quando vorrai... (I am scared because I'm never going to let you go. Even if you want me to Bella...)"

I feel a kiss pressed to my temple softly. I hear his voice in my subconscious just before I drift off completely.

"For the first time in my life I have one fear Cappuccinetto."

~.~.~ Thank you for reading. Love and God bless: Kat;) ~.~.~

Prompt Status CH11: Full chapter posted on my journal however due to length limitations on the journal it had to be split into two parts, the address/link is on my profile page. Full chapter also found on TWCS (my penname is KittyTylz). The chap isn't short, the lemon was just long.