Chapter 25

BPOV

My heart was beating so loud, drowning out anything else besides the words Edward had uttered. "I killed your mom."

"I killed your mom." The words echoed around me, surrounding me, engulfing me. I couldn't breathe.

I didn't realize I was on the floor until I felt Edward rubbing my back. I stood up and shoved him away. How dare he touch me? How dare he?

How long did he know? Did he know when we met? Did he know when we started dating? When we said I love you? I shook my head and headed for the door.

The tears streamed down my face, and I tried holding them back. I really did, but there was only so much even I could endure.

Edward jumped in front of me to prevent me from leaving. I attempted to maneuver around him, but he dodged every move I made.

I wished I had my gun on me right about now.

"Bella, please. Let me–" Edward pleaded, unshed tears filling his eyes. He reached to caress my arm, but I shoved him away once more, harder this time. To send a message.

"Don't fucking touch me!" I screamed, pushing against his chest, hoping he'd let me leave. I needed to get out of here. The walls were closing in. I was drowning. It was like losing her all over again. Losing me. Losing him…

"You lied to me," I whispered, barely able to choke out the words. I covered my face with my hands, hating to let him, or anyone, see me cry. See me weak. Italians weren't allowed to be weak; we didn't get that privilege.

"Bella, I didn't lie to you. I just didn't think–" he started, but I really didn't want to hear this. Didn't want to live through this once more.

"What?" I goaded him, shrieking at this point as I kept shoving him against the front door. He let me too. Edward didn't even resist. "You didn't think what? You didn't think to tell me it was you? You? All this time, you listened to me speak about her. How could you?" I softened my tone, tired of it all. "And you were the one who killed her?" I whispered, so fucking betrayed.

Edward looked at me with an expression filled with sympathy. It made me want to slap him. Kill him. Pity, it must have been. Regret? I don't fucking know.

"I'm so sorry about Re—" Edward started, but I didn't let him get her name out. My hand cracked him across the face.

He stood there stunned, slowly moving from the doorway. But he wasn't going to get away that easy. Not when he took her away from me.

I charged toward him and punched his torso over and over again, as I continued to cry. Fuck it!

"Don't you fucking say her name," I repeated, over and over again. "Don't you dare!"

Edward huffed. "Oomph." He nodded in agreement. He could have easily toppled me away from him. Instead, he let me continue my assault until I backed away. The spell was as broken as I was. I threw my hands up, guilty. Yeah, like I should be the guilty one.

He deserved this. Edward made this mess. He caused all this pain and anguish. This was who he truly was. Pain.

I heaved and started for the door, hearing him call my name, sounding a bit winded from my attack. Edward had a lone tear streaming down his face as I slammed the door behind me. Good for him.

EPOV

Fuck! Motherfucking cocksucking whore bastard. I couldn't believe myself. I fucking hated myself.

Hated all of this shit.

What I did to Bella—I fucking broke her. Me.

When she broke down, it pained me. I was the cause of that heartache. Usually I wouldn't feel empathy and tell them to toughen up, but Bella was different. She always had been. Now that was shot to shit.

Bella was so strong, and to see her completely shattered was so out of character. She was right—I did lie, but not about knowing I killed her mom because I didn't know shit about that. No—I lied to myself, and ultimately her, that I could be the person she needed. The man she needed. Maybe Pops was right and my job had finally caught up with me. Was it all fucking worth it? Was this truly justice? Respect and honor like the oath I took. The code I was trained to follow. I don't know anything anymore.

I wanted to go after her. Tell her we could work through this. We could, couldn't we?

Who was I kidding? I killed my girlfriend's mother. How the fuck do you come back from that?

I went over to my liquor cabinet and poured whatever was in reach, blindly. I couldn't give a shit less about what it was.

As the liquid burned my throat, I walked over to the coffee table and saw a Polaroid photo of Bella and me from one of our dates. I cringed and punched the wall behind me.

"What the fuck?" I screamed into my empty brownstone, the walls echoing, reminding me how alone I truly was.

Yeah, I had my family, but they were my family. They had to put up with me to a certain extent. My work family only valued me depending on how useful I was to them first.

I truly forget how lonely my life before Bella was. Now I had nothing to do but wallow in my regret and loneliness.

Bear whimpered to go outside, so I opened the screen door and let him out into the yard. I wasn't about to walk around the block like this.

Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock next to me continued its assault on the pounding in my head as it blared. I pushed it off the nightstand and looked for my phone. Fuck! I had nine missed calls and two texts from Alistair.

The last one read: Meet me on the Brooklyn Bridge at 10.

I looked at the alarm clock that was now dangling next to the bed. 9:30. Fuck!

Judging by Alistair's jumpy attitude the night before and his persistent messages, I knew something was wrong. I just felt it in my gut. From the second I'd met the kid, I knew he would be a thorn in my side. Hopefully he would finally divulge why he was so fucking untouchable. Why he was so fucking special and the rest of us were just fucking peasants.

Skipping a shower, I changed into clean clothes, not even bothering with wearing a suit. I hadn't planned on doing any real work today, so my casual clothing would have to do.

Still hungover from my bender the night before, I drove with my sunglasses on even though a steady but light drizzle was falling and the sun was MIA.

I'd blacked out after drink number three. I wasn't looking forward to the home repairs I would have to do as a result.

Thankfully the traffic was mild. The heavens must have done that. I would have killed a fucker in bumper-to-bumper traffic considering my mood. I parked on the street and trekked up the bridge through the fog, spotting the asshole waiting for me already. He was leaning against the railing with a fucking suit on. A nice fucking suit. One that was unwrinkled and expensive-looking. His usually messy mop of hair was slicked back neatly. The fucker must have taken a bath.

What the fuck was going on? Was I being punked?

"EC!" he greeted, still looking a little wearily at me, as he kicked his leg up.

"Why the hell am I here?" I demanded. I didn't have the time or patience for his silly little games. I would kill him today if he pulled his usual shit. Though the mamaluke was smart, picking such a public and high traffic place to meet.

"Always so eloquent, aren't you?" Blondie muttered, looking slightly amused. His smirk was the only recognizable part of him. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was a completely different person.

"Cut the crap. I had a shit night, and I don't have time for this." I gritted my teeth, preparing to shove him, when he widened his eyes and he grabbed my bicep.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. I mean, assaulting a federal officer is still a crime last time I checked." He pursed his lips, smirking slightly before he turned his gaze to a dark colored sedan parked behind us that was a little too close for my liking.

My mouth gaped open, my eyebrows furrowed, and the wind was quite literally knocked out of me. The fucker–Blondie—was a fucking FBI agent?! Holy shit.

An FBI agent that I had been abusing since day one. An FBI agent who saw me do some really questionable shit. Fucking shit. What the fuck was going on?

"Not so nice being on the other side is it, Eddie? I'm going to call you that from now on. I hope you don't mind." Alistair laughed and ruffled my hair, flicking droplets of rain off before taking a step back from me, finally releasing my arm. A dull throb shot up the limb—fucker actually had a good grip.

"Alist–'' I started, kinda of trying not to shit my pants. Oh the irony.

"It's Agent Scavone to you, Eddie." He pulled out a recording device and tossed it to me.

I clutched the recorder in my hand, looking at it questionably before I turned to him."What do you want? What's going on?" I challenged. This couldn't be real life.

Blondie couldn't be a cop, let alone a federal agent. A fed, a rat. He just couldn't. Blondie was stunad, a fucking dope. The motherfucker was worse than Emmett, for god's sake.

Holy shit. It all made sense though. The jokes, the stupidity, the nonsense. He wanted me to discount him; he wanted to bait me. Blondie knew exactly what he was doing. Seamlessly, he became the bane of my existence, and I had no reason to question him. I just thought he was a pain in the ass.

All this time, I was being played.

Question was how did this get past the organization? I mean, it got past me but I'd been pretty distracted lately.

Was he a plant? Was this a set up for me? I wasn't going to get anything answered if I stood here quietly.

I held up the recording device and looked at Agent Scavone, questioningly.

"I've been recording you. Having your phones tapped, your house is bugged. I've got so much dirt on you, it's not even funny, Eddie," Blondie bragged, rubbing the back of his head. "See, my only problem is I still need you for my plan to work. I want you to cooperate. I don't want to use this shit against you. But I can and I will if push comes to shove." He smirked again. God, how I wanted to wipe it off of his face.

"What do you want from me?" I inquired, not wanting to go to jail. Sure, my life was pretty fucking bleak right about now, but I still had shit to live for. Well, I had my dog and Ma.

"You're going to do what I say like a good little bitch and you won't serve life in prison, capisce?" the fucker threatened. He even tried to look menacing. I got to hand it to him—he took no nonsense.

"Fine," I muttered, not really seeing very many options. I looked at the cars driving past. Lucky fuckers didn't have these issues.

Alistair clapped his hands together, jovially. "Great! See you're being reasonable, Eddie." Again with the name Eddie. He knew I hated being called that. Bastard.

"Who else knows?" My mind went straight to Bella. Was she in on this? Marcus and Aro? Felix? Who could I trust? Who the fuck knows? Maybe my own fucking grandmother was involved…

Alistair glanced over to the car again, which no doubt housed his partner, and then he looked back at me. He seemed pensive, like he was contemplating how much he wanted to divulge. It made sense because if I were in his shoes, I'd use the very same strategy.

"Aro," he mumbled, taking the recording device from me. "You tell nobody about this or I get my guys to pick you up and I have the DA make an example out of you. I don't think someone as pretty as you will last in jail. The Volturi won't protect a rat," he taunted, walking closer to me. "Whose the little bitch boy now?" He chuckled.

"What do I do now?" I yelled as he turned to walk away. It began pouring, the pellets soaking me.

"Wait for my call. I'd suggest you keep your trap shut about this conversation. Nobody needs to know about it, especially Bella," he said, taking another step toward his ride. "Oh, and by the way, Marcus knows about you and Bella. So do me a favor—try to keep yourself alive, will ya?"

The door to the sedan slammed shut, and just like that he was gone.

I stood there stunned. This was the guy who shit in my ride. When I thought back to all the shit I did in front of him— Fuck! I was fucked. I not only beat on him for sport, I tortured fuckers in front of him. I exposed him to my relationship with Bella. Now she was a liability to Marcus as a consequence.

I needed to go to Marcus and see how much he really knew. Maybe Blondie was just using that as a scare tactic.

If Marcus or anybody in the Volturi knew about my relationship with Bella, we'd both be dead by now.

My mind raced back to that day all those years ago in the alley. Things hadn't been right in a while.

I needed to go to Marcus.

I needed to make sure there wasn't a target on my back and most importantly, Bella's.

I sped all the way over to Marcus' front, which was risky considering how heavy the downpour had gotten since I left my crib this morning. As I opened the doors, Gianna sat at her desk, reapplying her lip gloss, no doubt having just serviced the boss.

"EC! How are you?" She perked up, flipping her hair over her shoulder.

"Is he in?" I demanded, ignoring her flirting. Today was not the day.

She nodded. "I'll let him know you're here," Gianna stated, rising from her chair.

I sprinted in front of the door before she could give my presence away. "I got this!" I called over my shoulder.

"EC! You can't go in ther–" Gianna walked over, trying to hold me back from opening the door, but I shrugged her away.

As I opened the door, I was met with Marcus sitting at his desk and a blonde chick between his legs giving him a blowjob.

"I'm so sorry, sir," Gianna muttered and sheepishly closed the door.

Marcus' eyes popped open once he realized I was standing there. He smirked, slightly, but ignored me as he tightened his grasp on the back of the broad's head. With one last thrust down her throat, he was done.

Marcus shooed her away, tucking himself back into his pants, as the blonde wiped the corner of her mouth, stood, and fixed her top that was exposing her fake DDs.

I stifled a laugh because I was here with purpose and it wasn't to get a free peep show.

"EC, my boy!" Marcus greeted, "Did you need anything from Tanya?" The blonde stopped at the door, looking at me with hungry eyes as if she didn't have another guy's dick down her throat seconds ago.

I shook my head no, and she proceeded to leave.

"What brings you down?" Marcus asked, with amusement to his voice, leaning back in his chair.

"I was in the neighborhood and wanted to know if any new jobs needed to get done. Since the Feds are circling, I know things have been dull, but I just need to keep busy, keep my skill sharp, y'know?" I lied, hoping to get away with it.

Marcus stood from his chair, removed his suit jacket and draped it over his chair before he walked around the desk, taking a seat on the top of it, directly in front of me. I gulped. This wasn't a good sign.

"The Feds shouldn't be an issue much longer," Marcus disclosed, clasping his hands together to rest on his beer belly.

"Oh?" I questioned. Could have fooled me. I just had a fucking run-in with them, I added mentally.

"Do you notice one less person here?" Marcus inquired, gesturing around his office.

"Aro?" I asked, already having a bad feeling in my stomach about this.

Marcus disregarded my need for confirmation and said, "EC, what you all seem to forget is I know everything. I knew when the Feds started circling after the Russians tapped our phones. I knew when Aro was approached by that stupid Fed with the long hair. I knew when he made a deal and ratted us all out." He took a step closer to me. "I knew when you fell in love with a fucking Cigno. I knew when you chose her over the family, killing Demetri and being un cazzone by calling Felix to come clean up your mess. Did you really think that wouldn't get back to me?" Marcus shoved me into the seat in front of him. "But what everyone seems to forget the most is that I know what to do with traitors."

Aro's dead. Well shit!