Disclaimer: Hello, out there! We hope you all haven't broken up with us! We apologize for the extended break. We never intended on not updating this story for so long, but we got so busy with contests and then the holidays were upon us! We want to say a huge THANK YOU for all of the reviews we've received over the past two months and we apologize profusely for not replying to them all! We love reading your thoughts on the story and promise to do better. The story is now completely written, so you won't have to wait very long for updates. ;-)

Just to catch everyone up, at the end of the previous chapter, Edward and Bella are surprised by a visit from James. Shall we continue?

*Please make note that this is written in James' POV*

Chapter 21 - JamesPOV

Just as I'm about to round the corner and close in on the back door of Aro's apartment building, one of the whores I've frequented in the past comes out, halting my steps. Slinking back into the dark recesses of the building, I wait quietly.

Killing one more person is not at the top of my to-do list tonight. Hiding bodies is no easy task, especially when you're doing it alone. All that bullshit about dead weight makes complete sense.

Peering around the corner, I see that she's now leaning up against the opposite wall, smoking a cigarette. The long blonde hair looks a bit familiar, but after a while, all these bitches look the same.

Fuck!

The smell back here is nauseating and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep from losing my lunch.

Or was it breakfast?

I can't really remember the last time I ate, but I know it's threatening to reappear.

Holding my breath, I look around the corner again, just in time to see her squish the cigarette under the toe of her high-heeled shoe and walk around the edge of the building. Not wasting another minute, I make a run for the back door and haul ass up the four flights of stairs to Aro's apartment. As I reach the top, I have to lean over, bracing myself on the railing, so I can catch my breath.

I really shouldn't have smoked that last pack of cigarettes.

Standing in front of Aro's door, I try to get my shit together by smoothing down my hair and tucking my shirt back into my slacks.

After two knocks, I hear movement from inside, before the door opens hesitantly.

"What the fuck do you want?" Aro snarls through the crack in the door.

"Aro, is that any way to talk to your most loyal business partner?" I ask, feigning control. I need his help. If he doesn't help me, I don't know what I'll do. I can't go home. I can't go to work. And, I'm not going to prison. I'm much too pretty for prison. So, the only place I have is here. He got me into this shit, now he has to get me out!

He starts to shut the door in my face and my blood immediately starts boiling. I force my hand into the crack and forcefully push it open, because I refuse to be ignored.

"I'm not finished yet," I state calmly, as Aro and I stand nose to nose.

"You look like hell and smell like shit!" Aro spits out. "Where the hell have you been hiding? You know the feds are looking everywhere for you. I can't have you hanging around here. I don't need any trouble!" His voice escalates, as he pushes me back out the door.

"You owe me!" I yell, my façade crumbling. "I pushed drugs and bitches for you for years! You. Owe. Me!"

"I never," he yells, his arm now at my throat, pushing me against the door frame, "never told you to kill one of them! You crossed the line, James! I can't help you now!"

"I did it for you! That bitch was wired! They were onto you, man!" I argue, stating my case, feeling desperation creep in.

"The only fucking thing they were onto was you," he screams, his perfectly coiffed hair falling into his eyes. "You've cracked, James! You've taken things way too far." I feel cool metal pressed into my side; the click of a hammer being pulled back earns my attention. "I want you to get the fuck out of here and don't ever let me see you around my girls or my streets again because I will fucking kill you!" he roars, spit landing on my cheek. "Got it?"

Our eyes stay locked on each other until I nod, pulling away from him and stepping back into the hall, before Aro slams the door in my face. I attempt to straighten my shirt and jacket and smooth my hair back again, my hands shaking like a junkie, before I turn on my heel and walk quickly down the stairs. The last fucking thing I need is to run into one of his whores, or worse, the feds.

I've gotta get the hell out of here and come up with Plan B.

Edward.

He's the only other choice—the only other person who can help me.

The last message I was able to retrieve from my phone was from him. He sounded genuinely concerned, and I'm hoping that's really the case. Hopefully, those FBI motherfuckers haven't gotten to him, too. Even so, he's not easily shaken. If I can convince him that helping me disappear—getting out of the country—is in both his and Cullen Enterprises' best interests, I'll be as good as gone. He'll do anything to uphold his company's image. It shouldn't be too difficult. Actually, now that I think of it, I don't know why I didn't just go to him in the first place. Edward and I both play above the law. If anyone will understand, he will.

I begin sprinting through the back alleys that head toward the hotel, side-stepping and leaping over trash and homeless people along the way. Fucking disgusting. If I can't convince Edward to help me, I might end up on the streets, too. No way can I let that happen.

When I round the corner of the hotel, I slow to a casual pace, trying to regain my composure before entering the building. A polite nod to the doorman and a plastered smile to the manager on duty gets me to the elevators in no time and, soon, I'm knocking on Edward's door.

My boss doesn't look surprised to see me, but he certainly doesn't appear to be thrilled with my presence, either. He steps aside to allow me into the penthouse, but remains quiet. Both of us simultaneously look toward an opening door, as a slight creak breaks the silence of the room.

"James," Edward says, acknowledging my presence, but obviously still distracted by the woman standing in the partially-opened doorway.

"Bella, go back into the bedroom," Edward commands the woman at the door. "Mr. Stanley and I have a few things we need to discuss."

Before she quietly escapes back into the bedroom, I get a good look at her—her long brown hair, her face, the doe-shaped eyes—there's something familiar about her, but I just can't remember how I know her. She can't be a hooker.

Right?

I mean, if she were, Edward would have her partially naked and sent on her way before his pants hit the floor. He's fast. I haven't witnessed him in the act, but I've been around when McCarty has brought one or two over for his disposal, and disposing of them is what he does. Edward and I are similar people. We use other people and things for our needs and advancement, and then we discard them. We understand each other, which is why I have no doubt that Edward will understand my need for his assistance.

"Hey, boss. I, uh, need to—"

"Where the hell have you been?" Edward doesn't raise his voice, but he's seething. Apparently, I'm gonna have to do some major ass-kissing to calm him down. He won't help me if he's pissed and not helping me is not an option.

"I've been, you know, laying low for a bit . . . not partying so much, spending more time with my wife. Kinda like a stay-cation, as they call it nowadays. You're always so busy, I didn't want to call and bore you with the details. Besides, you're the Head Chief in Charge, you don't need me. I doubt you even missed me."

"You're right, James. I don't need you and you obviously don't need me or a job, since you couldn't find the time during your—what did you call it—stay-cation—to answer or return any of my phone calls. I should fire your ass right now!"

No, no, no, no. This isn't going down like I'd hoped at all. I need to bring my A-game right the fuck now.

"Edward, please! I mean, Mr. Cullen, sir, I do need this job." I loosen the knot in my tie and try to relax. I still haven't been invited to sit down, so it seems as though I'll be doing my groveling here in the foyer. "Look, I didn't want to have to do this, but you're the only person who can help me."

"Do what, exactly?" he asks, crossing his arms while his eyes narrow at me, like he's zooming into my soul and seeing all of my secrets.

I glance longingly at a nearby sofa before pushing the desire to sit out of my brain. Once Edward hears my story, he'll understand. Then we can relax on that comfortable couch while that girl of his waits on us all night. Hell, maybe he'd be up for celebrating three-way style later on. I'll gladly take his sloppy seconds.

"I didn't want to have to come to you, but I really have no choice. I'm in some big trouble, boss. I need your help."

"What kind of trouble and how am I supposed to help you?" He's still showing no emotions but I've wasted enough time. I have to just blurt it out and get it over with.

"You don't want details, I promise. Just know that I made some bad business moves and I need to leave the country for a while. The feds are looking for me and, if they find me, they'll either kill me or take me to prison. You know I'd never survive prison and I sure as hell ain't ready to die. Will you help me? Please?"

I hope that's enough begging. I can feel my desperation build up with every word that's coming out of my mouth but I can't lose my cool in front of him.

"Let me get this straight. You want me to, somehow, get you out of the country when federal agents are looking for you and, yet, you won't tell me what you did?"

"It's for your protection, Mr. Cullen. I'd hate for you to get into any trouble just for helping me. The less you know, the better. Besides, it was all just a silly misunderstanding."

Yeah, that hooker bitch misunderstood that you don't set up James Stanley and survive. But he doesn't need to know that.

"You wouldn't have to do much. Just some cash, new papers and IDs. Surely, you know someone who does that kind of work, right? I'll pay you back whenever it's safe for me to come back to the states, I promise. You know I'm good for it."

"If I knew that, James, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. I know how you live, what kind of person you are and, because of that, I'm declining to help you."

"What?! You're not going to help me? What the fuck, Edward?! I thought we were friends! I mean, we used to party together and everything. Doesn't that mean anything to you?"

"Not really. You were a good employee—for the most part. You did what I asked, when I asked for it, and without any questions. For that, I'm grateful. But, I will not fund your new secret life and help you hide from the authorities. That's asking too much. We're not friends; you work for me. It's as simple as that."

"Fuck you!" I intended to charge at him but before my body can spring into action, Edward has me pinned to the wall behind me with his hand around my throat.

"You'd better be careful, James, for I assure you I can hurt you a lot more than the feds can. I'm done with you. Get out and never come back here or to the office. I'd better not ever see your face again, do you understand?"

Before I can reply, his cell phone rings. He drops me onto the floor and quickly answers his call. My brain scrambles to make a decision on what to do. Do I leave? Do I attack Edward while he's distracted? Better yet, do I go after his girl while he's on the phone? I bet he'd help me if I threatened to hurt her.

Fuck! What do I do?

With every passing second, I'm missing my opportunity to make my move. I can't make out what Edward is saying for the most part, but when he says "I'll be right there" I know my time is up. While his back is turned to me, I slowly stand up and slink down the hall.

Time for Plan C.

A/N:

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