Chapter 5
"I need a hundred black coffins for a hundred bad men, a hundred black graves so I can lay their ass in." Black Coffins, Rick Ross
One week ago
Racing at break-neck speed to his car, Edward started his Volvo from his iPhone. More than a few people stopped and stared at the incredibly handsome man in all black running at an alarming speed. He was closing in, but still quite a distance away from his car. He pushed the only small button on his suitcase, razor blade spikes emerging from the bottom of the case, not a second to spare. Being caught out in the open was not an option. Hurling the suitcase through the rolled up driver's seat window first, thirty seconds later he slid in through the glass shattered opening with the grace of a panther, revving the engine and peeling out of the parking-lot. Looking in the rear-view mirror, just as he suspected two black cars were already on his ass as pulled into traffic. Pressing on the gas, he barely missed a collision with a white Toyota in front of him. Gun shots rent the air, bullets flying through the back window, making Edward duck and strategically stomp on the brakes, which caused the first of the black vehicles behind him to swerve into oncoming traffic. He saw the second vehicle disappear around a corner in the opposite direction. Sitting up with no hesitation, he cocked his Glock 19, aiming at the first black car that was now stopped in the middle of the street. Bang! Bang! One shot to each of their skulls and the driver and passenger where both dead, the bullet holes oozing blood from their foreheads. Whipping his car in reverse, Edward sped off in the direction of the second car. Edward was not your everyday murderer, when someone chased him he liked to play a little game called if you don't kill me, I'm sure as fuck killing you. Narrowing his eyes, Edward found the second car pulled over, waiting for him in an alley. Fucking rookies, he thought. They wanted him to fall for the old "let's talk" routine. Pulling up behind the car, and reloading his Glock, he slowly stepped out of the car, not a hair out-of-place. Two occupants were in the car, one short, and one tall in the extreme. The short one stepped out followed by the taller man, both walking slowly towards him.
"Allow me to introduce…." The short man started to say, but was cut off when Edward shot him in the knee cap. The man went to pull out his weapon, but in the blink of an eye Edward shot his hand off, leaving only a bloody stub in its place.
Before "Lurch" could pull out his gun, Edward shot him in the throat, his body hitting the ground with a resounding thud, blood splattering the cement. He had judged which of the two was faster as they walked from the car. It was obvious by the tall man's gait that he was both slow and clumsy, so he took him out last, while also making sure the short man was still alive for questioning.
"Give me a name," Edward demanded, while disarming him. His left boot pressed down hard on top of what was left of the man's hand, causing blood to spurt.
"Moretti," the man gasped, sirens sounding from a distance.
Moretti was too small time for such an elaborate scheme. Moretti was a very bad man, but he was a drug lord, and that's as far as it went. Running out of time before the police arrived he gave the man no quarter, quickly snapping his neck. Back in his car, leaving before the police could trail him, Edward made a phone call.
Central Prison, North Carolina
Present
The prisoner transport bus was fully packed. The guard standing at the front of the bus was looking for any excuse to tase one of us. I had never seen so many hardened women in all of my life and it was honestly intimidating. I kept my eyes averted but not downcast, I didn't need anyone thinking that I was easy pickings. I had just turned eighteen and for as long as I can remember, I had never felt so out of place. One older woman with a white scar above her right eyebrow kept eyeing me while licking her lips. I tried not to shudder as we pulled into the opening prison gates.
"You've got two minutes to get your asses off this bus…move!" the guard shouted.
After being yelled at for another five minutes we were led into the prison, which stood at a towering height. As we walked through the rank prison cell area, women behind cells leered at us and shouted obscenities. They said things that I had never heard of, so I wasn't sure what to make of their threats.
"You hear me pretty girl? Ima make you my bitch!" a tall bald woman said, looking right at me.
"Ooh, fresh meat that one!" another shouted.
I was shoved roughly into a cell, by a rather large prison guard. Looking around, I was somewhat disgusted at the dirty floors and stained toilet. Sitting indian-style on the top bunk of the bed was what appeared to be my cell-mate. A blonde woman who looked to be in her forties, stared back at me.
"I'm Jane," she said, hopping down from the bed with ease before she started pacing the cell.
"Isabella, but I prefer Bella," I said softly, wondering if this woman was going to pounce. She reminded me of a caged tiger.
"What did a young girl like you do to get in a place like this?"
"Murder," I answered, not sure if I should be scared of this woman yet.
"Really?" she looked as if she didn't believe me.
"It's not what you think," I said anxiously as she sized me up.
"It never is," Jane scoffed.
"I didn't mean to do it."
"Who did you kill?" she asked, her brown eyes glittering dangerously.
"My mother's boyfriend," I whispered, shrinking back.
"Ah, I see. He liked you a little too much, did he?" she guessed.
"Yes."
"Well as long as you didn't kill any children we will get along just fine. Now, sit down, before you fall down," she ordered.
Feeling very tired I sat on the bottom bunk, taking deep breaths to steady myself. I tried to lay back so I could close my eyes but changed my mind.
"Get some sleep, they'll be rounding us up for dinner in an hour," Jane told me.
Looking deeply into her eyes, I decided that she meant me no harm for the time being. I curled up into a ball on the very uncomfortable bed and drifted to sleep rather quickly. My last thoughts before sleep claimed me were of trees and the smell of paper.
New York
One week ago
"Meet me," Edward spoke into his phone before disconnecting the call.
The only person he could trust was his brother, Jasper Cullen. He sped as he made his way to an old park they had frequented as children. An hour later, he parked his car, already seeing jasper sitting on one of the park benches.
"What the fuck is going on?" he asked Jasper.
"Some fucked up shit, that's what," Jasper responded, his voice solemn.
"What's Moretti got to do with this?"
"Moretti? How did you come across this information?" Jasper asked.
"His men were there the whole time," Edward informed him.
"I see. As I'm sure you have guessed this is bigger than what either of us can possibly understand right now. Moretti must be the patsy."
"That's not all. Father is somehow connected to all of this. Fuck! I hate being blind."
"You've got to go away for a while Edward."
"No shit!"
"I've got a cover for you," he said as he handed Edward a brown folder with papers.
"Where?" Edward asked, sighing heavily.
"Central Prison, North Carolina."