Chapter 28 (EPOV)
"You mind if we go to my parents' crib and check on those oobatz fuckers?" I asked Bella, driving toward my childhood home. We had spent the entire afternoon at the brownstone talking and were about to pick up dinner when I remembered I had a family to be concerned about as well.
She nodded in agreement. Sure I taught Emmett how to shoot a while back, but knowing that mamaluke, when push came to shove, he might end up shooting Nonna for god's sake.
"Yeah, that's fine. Rosalie texted me that she's with your brother anyways," Bella added, looking down at her phone.
Pulling up to the front of the house, I ran around the car to open the door for Bella. While our relationship status might have been up in the fucking air, I still was a gentleman.
"They might be sleeping," Bella reasoned when I reached for my keys. I shrugged. It was only nine-thirty. But she had a point—this might as well be a fucking old folks home.
"Emmett, get the fuck in here." I heard my father screaming from his recliner, where he sat eating a tub of ice cream.
"Edward," Pops greeted with an annoyed look once he noticed that I'd come in. "Here to remind us why so many people want us dead?"
I rolled my eyes. I tried not to regret calling them this afternoon and filling them in on what was happening.
Yes, I felt bad for dragging my family into this crazy life. But I'd rather have them in my life than be living a total lie. Annoying fuckers mattered to me.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm sorry," I muttered, really needing another smoke already. I looked around for Emmett, supposedly the one who was looking out for my family.
"Edward, dear, is that you?" Nonna called from the hallway. Once she rounded the corner, she yelled for Bella, "Dollface, can you look at this bump I have between my tits?" Jesus Christ.
"Ma, don't you dare show Bella your hairy mole. The dermatologist said it was benign." Ma whined, coming out of the kitchen wearing a long muumuu that matched the one Nonna had on. It really was like a nursing home here.
"Why are you wearing that as pajamas, Ma?" I asked. Before she could respond, I was struck mute as Rosalie strolled down the stairs wearing what was clearly one of my grandmother's nightgowns as well. What the hell was going on here?
"They are comfortable. Your grandmother is wrong about many things, but this is not one of them," Ma defended, pouring herself a glass of wine from the bar cart.
"Why the hell are you wearing one, Ro?" Bella demanded, trying not to laugh at how her beautiful blonde sister looked in the unflattering nightdress.
"Shut it, Belly Bean!" Rosalie sighed, crossing her arms and taking the bottle of wine from my mother to pour her own glass. "This is the original lingerie. Our grandfathers thought this was as sexy as those Agent Provocateur shit you buy!"
Nonna scurried over to high five Rosalie. Fuck, another broad on the old lady's good side. I was royally screwed.
I heard stomping coming down the stairs, signaling the arrival of my asshole brother. "Yo, yo, yo, what's happening, peeps?!" Emmett boomed.
I turned around to scold him and was met with him wearing a fucking pink ruffled muumuu, but because he's a fucking gorilla, the zipper didn't go up all the way, so we were graced with his hairy chest. Madonna mia. I did the sign of the cross, hoping god would spare me.
"Emmett, what the fuck are you wearing?" I yelled, stumbling back a little as Nonna cracked me with her cane. I guess dissing her outfits was never a good idea.
"Ma refuses to do my laundry because somebody told her I needed to be more independent." He gave a dirty look to Rosalie. "So now after recycling all my dirty shit, I resorted to stealing Nonna's shit. I was thinking she'd think I was one of her girls and like me again. Didn't work, but my balls are nice and airy. You should try it," Emmett rambled, gesturing to his braggiole.
"You're too old for Mommy to be doing your laundry," Rosalie scolded, nudging him. Then she eyed his body up and down. "It's a good look on you."
Nonna burst into laughter. "You got any stoges, EC?" Nonna asked. How the fuck did she remember to call me EC?
I shook my head, hoping Ma was too engrossed in her wine to hear that I was still smoking.
"What?" Ma shrieked, "You're still smoking? You told me you quit!" She shoved me in my chest. "You think you're this big bad mobster? Newsflash: I should be the one you're afraid of. Nonna, where's your cane?" Ma asked, looking around for one of the deadliest weapons known to man.
"No, anything but the cane!" I might have whined a little.
"Hit him once for me," Bella chimed in, sitting next to my dad and started to dig into the ice cream with a fresh spoon.
Traitor. These crazy fuckers…
My family wasn't iced yet. This may or may not be a good thing. Depended when you asked me.
Bella and I headed to my crib, and of course, Bear was on her like glue from the jump. They acted like they weren't just reunited with each other a few hours prior. Traitors were here, there, and everywhere.
I called Blondie while Bella was feeding Bear. He answered on the first ring. "Eddie boy, how the hell are you?"
I hated this fanuk.
"I need to see you," I demanded, not that I was in any position to.
"Why? Have you thought about what I said?" he asked, smugly.
"Yes," I muttered, looking over at Bella. Fuck, she was beautiful.
"I'll meet you tomorrow in Sheepshead Bay at 9:00 sharp. I'll text you the address." Blondie hung up the phone before I could get a word in edgewise.
The next morning, I rushed out the door, anxious for multiple reasons. I hated the pain I'd caused Bella. I hated all these loose ends where my work was concerned. I was EC—I prided myself on the easy. Not this big fucking mess.
I looked down at my phone and drove toward the church where Alistair instructed me to meet him.
Looking in my rear-view mirror, I was careful that I wasn't being tailed. Now I had two organizations—the Volturi and the FBI—up my ass, I had to be constantly on my toes. I guess, it would technically be three—might as well add the Cigno shitbirds into the mix.
I circled the block twice, and on the second go-around, I got stuck behind a yellow school bus. Kids must have had school at this church. Seemed like Blondie wanted to ensure I wasn't gonna ice his ass, no doubt. Not that he had to worry—orange really wasn't my color.
Once I parked, I got out and straightened my suit jacket. I had decided that casual just didn't do it for me. No way was I going to keep walking around like some average Joe. Fuck that!
I rounded the corner and saw none other than Agent Scavone standing there with two coffees in hand. No matter the revelation of his true identity, he'd always be Blondie to me.
"Nice of you to finally show up." Blondie looked down at his watch and shook his head slightly.
I pulled out my phone and saw it was 9:05. Seriously, fucker.
Alistair raised his eyebrows. Shit, I must have said that aloud.
"What the fuck you want from me? The school bus stopped and everything went to shit," I complained, outstretching my arms. I was sick of all this bullshit.
"I wanted you to be here at the time I told you, Eddie," he admonished, thrusting one of the coffee cups into my hand. "Here, this is for you. Like old times." Fucker had the nerve to laugh.
"Don't call me Eddie," I said through gritted teeth. "I was the one who wanted to see you if I recall correctly."
"Sure, sure. So you've got me here. What do you want?" Alistair inquired, leaning against the bricks of the church.
I rolled my eyes and took a sip of the coffee. Tasted like piss.
"I met with Marcus yesterday and he knows." I ran my fingers through my hair, unsettled by the whole fiasco. "Fucker knows about you. Bella. Everything. I can't play this game unless I'm protected and my girl is too," I demanded, realizing he had nothing if I didn't cooperate.
"I suspected he was getting closer to knowing everything. I wasn't sure how much, which was why I sent you in there." He smirked. The fanuk played me. He didn't know shit for definite but used me anyway.
I shoved him, my aggravation of being toyed with bubbling to the surface. He barely moved an inch under my force, and I was surprised as I realized how weak he had been pretending to be all this time.
"Hey, don't assault a federal agent, Edward. It can end badly for you." He warned, "Plus last time I checked Bella's not your girl anymore, is she?"
How the hell did he know this shit? Shitbag knew everything. It was getting creepy.
"Aro is dead. I knew that for sure. But I couldn't be certain just how much Marcus knew. Sure, Aro told me bits and pieces, trying to salvage this operation, but he was just as shitty of an operative as he was a father," Alistair remarked, setting down his coffee down on the pavement and lighting a cigarette.
My mouth gaped open. Maybe I was the stunad one after all. Aro was Alistair's pops?
"Father?" I choked out, still stunned by this sudden reveal.
Alistair nodded and looked away wistfully. "My mom had a long-standing affair with Aro over the course of two years. She stuck it out with him that long, hoping he'd leave his wife. I guess the technical term is goomah, but if you call my mother that, I'll fucking kill you," he spat, glaring at me menacingly. I nodded, wanting to hear the rest of this shit. "By the end of their 'relationship,' she'd found out she was pregnant with me. Aro's wife was livid when she found out, but all was forgotten when Aro swore he'd pay my mother to get rid of me and he sent my mother on her merry way. Marcus even offered to kill my mother for his brother. Aro 'spared' her. And my mother being my mother took the money but kept me. Thank God." Blondie did the sign of the cross.
"Years later, my mother told me about my father's illegal business dealings, and it fostered my career. I joined the Bureau, wanting to bring down the organization that practically destroyed the only parent I ever knew. She never got the chance to have a life. My mother died right before I graduated after a too-short life filled with chronic pain, anxiety, and oftentimes crippling depression. Saying I was bitter for a long time would be putting it mildly. This mob life—the one that is so frequently glorified by flashy cars, wads of cash, guns, sex, drugs, violence—it stole my mother's life from her. I hid my identity from my superiors so they couldn't cite conflict of interest as a reason for me not to get a spot on the team investigating the Volturi. It took a while but eventually I made contact with Aro and revealed to him who I really was. To my surprise, he was jovial about my existence. I played him like a fiddle, acting happy to be reunited and shit. Aro was sick of his greedy wife and mafia life so he agreed to turn into a stool pigeon and snitch on his brother's nefarious dealings."
"Talk about Daddy issues," I muttered, downing the rest of my shitty coffee.
"But things only got interesting when you got involved with the young Miss Isabella Cigno," Alistair gloated, snorting at whatever was going on in Blondie-land.
"Bella? What does Bella have to do with any of this?" I asked, feeling very protective over Bella. He shouldn't even be saying her name.
Blondie chuckled. "See while you have been moping around about having killed Bella's precious mother, trying your hardest for her not to find out, you've missed a large piece of the puzzle—me."
I furrowed my eyebrows, completely lost by where he was going with his monologuing. "What the fuck are you getting at?" I shouted, sick of all this dancing around.
Agent Shitbag threw his hands up. "Renee was having an affair with Aro. They were high school sweethearts. Before she got with Charles, she was up Aro's ass but he always had a wandering eye, hunting for bigger and better every chance he got. They broke up when he met Sulpicia, latching onto her because of her family's money and what it could do for him, so Renee settled and married her rebound, Charles. Clearly she had a type." Blondie rolled his eyes, like he was already bored with retelling the story. "Unfortunately, there was trouble in paradise at the Cigno residence. She played the part of doting wife and mother to those two girls, but Charles was distant with her—likely realizing that he felt more for her than she did him. Shortly after Bells—you don't mind if I call her Bells, do you?"
"Fuck you." I gritted out, resisting the urge to reach for my nine and kill him once and for all.
"Anyway, after Bella was born, Renee reached out to dear old dad to try to start things back up with him again. She knew he wasn't faithful to his wife, having numerous affairs with whatever willing woman he could find. Renee wasn't looking for him to dump his wife for her, perfectly content to steal any spare moments they could, so they carried on fucking behind their spouses' backs for years—well over a decade." He smirked and sucked on his stupid white teeth.
I was trying to wrap my head around the fact that Bella's mom was fucking Aro for years. Who would want him? He was just your typical mafia schmuck. I mean, he wasn't that Batman guy or anything.
"The problem was, they started to get sloppy. Instead of meeting up once a week, or once every other week, Renee would come in and out of the club to see Aro practically every day. She even went to his house for some afternoon delight. Well that was the straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. Sulpicia didn't give Aro any choice in the matter—Renee needed to be taken care of, and paying her off just wouldn't do this time—so instead of asking her husband to handle things, she went straight to Marcus. This time was so much worse than Aro's prior acts of infidelity. This wasn't just some other woman he was screwing around with—no, Renee was connected to a rival family, which was a big no no. And sure mob wives were typically untouchable. But if a fellow wife wanted something, you best believe it was going to be delivered. Marcus happily obliged his sister-in-law, and fortunately for him, he had this young eager recruit who made everything look easy to take care of things for him. A nice little soldier who followed orders, no questions asked."
While I had remembered the hit on Bella's mom vividly, and Caius had confirmed it with our talk, hearing Blondie also put away any doubt that I'd been the one to put her six feet under as a way of making my bones into the organization sent a chill up my spine. He was correct—I had been eager to do whatever was needed of me without even the slightest thought about the why. If the Boss wanted it, the Boss got it. Times had changed though—I was questioning everything these days. Specifically at this moment, I was wondering what Alistair's little trip down memory lane had to do with stopping Marcus from making good on his promise to torture Bella before he killed me.
"That's a nice story and all, but what does it have to do with the shitstorm we're in now? How does any of that even connect to your ass." My patience had grown thin the more he rambled on about the past.
"Well, if you had been paying attention, you would have realized that Marcus has always been a calculating fucker. He obliged his sister-in-law so that he could get Aro under his thumb. He put that hit on Bells' dad as a warning to you two star-crossed lovers, so that you would fall back in line like a good little boy. You didn't think you guys would get away with all this, did you?" Alistair taunted, throwing his cigarette butt on the pavement and squashed it with his shiny ass shoe.
"I wasn't planning on getting away with shit. I just wanted to live my life without having to worry about who the fuck I have as a girlfriend. This shit was all good in the beginning, and now it's…it's a mess. You think I wanted to be the one who killed my girlfriend's mother." I gasped, realizing I admitted this while Blondie could be wearing a fucking wire. Oh great. I really didn't think prison food would agree with my stomach, and I was sure the orange jumpsuit would give me hives.
Blondie snapped his fingers. "Eddie, are you listening?"
I shook my head and waited for him to repeat whatever bullshit he spewed.
"I was saying I already know that shit. And I'm not wearing a wire," Alistair added, laughing a little. He flipped up his suit jacket and patted his shirt. Fuck, I really needed to keep the shit in my mind, in my fucking head. "Look, while I know we got off to a rough start, I do want to help you."
"Help me?" I screamed. "How the fuck is any of this helping me? Ever since you came into my life, everything has gone to shit."
Blondie rolled his eyes, not shocked by my outburst one bit. "While I would love to take credit for your life going in the toilet, you've done that all by yourself. I mean, what did you think would happen when you joined the mafia? Or when you started screwing the rival's daughter?"
Fucker had a point, but I'd never admit it.
"So where does that leave me? Jail? Death by car bomb? I mean, that bomb was already intended for Bella, not her pops. Marcus is off the fucking rails. He's unhinged. I'm up shit creek without a paddle," I stuttered, pacing back and forth in the small alleyway.
I did the sign of the cross, hoping being in such close proximity to God's house would help me out of this mess.
"Always with the dramatics, Eddie," Alistair remarked and reached down to his briefcase that was resting against the church wall and pulled out some notes. "I'm offering you a deal if you cooperate. And I mean actually cooperate—none of this double agent shit. You work with me and me only. Only a few people know about this operation, and I'm not gonna let a mamaluke like you fuck up years of hard work." He smirked, looking at me for approval as he used one of my favorite insults.
Now I rolled my eyes. "But what about Marcus? Even if I give you all the shit to take him down, he has people everywhere. We will never be safe. Bella won't be safe. My family won't be fucking safe." Did he even think about the logistics in this plan?
Alistair shoved an envelope into my chest, forcefully. When did he get so strong? What was he pumping into his veins? Did he steal some yak?
"You'll all be fucking safe. Don't you worry—nobody will touch a hair on your pretty little head. But you gotta go into Witness Protection."
Witness Protection Program. A fresh start. A scary fucking start. Would Bella even be down for that? Would she join? Would she go off on her own with Rose? Separate us? What about Nonna? All my family has ever known is Brooklyn?
Bay Ridge was home. After Alistair handed me the papers, I didn't sign shit or agree to anything. I needed to think. But most importantly, I needed to make things right with Bella before I decided anything. And even if we couldn't go back to how we were, I at the very least had to talk to her, explain that I didn't know any of this shit would happen. Honestly, I didn't fucking know anything anymore.
My phone rang as soon as I'd gotten into the car and pulled away from the church. I assumed it was Alistair calling to pressure me already.
"Hello," I grumbled into the Bluetooth as I made the turn by Key Food.
"Oh, EC, you know I don't like when you speak to me with that tone," Marcus admonished on the other end of the phone.
Fuck! Fucking shit! Fuck!
"What's up, boss?" I tried to play off my annoyance.
"Don't be cute, EC, it's not becoming. You've lost my fucking respect. My trust. You know what that fucking means?" He yelled into the phone.
Yeah, it meant I was a dead man walking if I didn't rat and run away.
Become everything I hate or hated?
I don't even fucking know anymore.
"You had the opportunity to kill your little Fed friend, and you just let him walk away? I gave you a shot, Edward. I really did. At one point, I considered you like a son to me. That was my mistake because even my own flesh and blood betrayed me. Regardless of that, I still wanted to let you redeem yourself, but you've failed and now you've got to pay the price. How would you like it if I personally scooped up Bella and had her brought into the warehouse for questioning?"
Questioning meaning torture and death.
"No, sir. I'm so—" I started,
"Shut the fuck up!" he screamed. "Maybe I'll scoop up Nonna or your pretty mother on the way over?"
I looked at the number he was calling from. It was the landline at his office. Thank you, Jesus!
The phone line went dead and I started flooring the car. I had to get to his office before he left. I had to protect my family.
My hands shook. Fuck, I was never this uneasy. I usually was calm and collected. Nothing rattled me.
I made a sharp left turn, making a uey around the block so I could park in the back. As I shut off the engine, I prayed Caius wasn't here. But then the thought of him not being around made me worry that if he wasn't here, he was probably out there hurting Bella or my family.
Shit.
I pushed the doors open, expecting to see Gi somewhere, but the lobby was empty. I grabbed my nine from my pants, taking a couple of calming breaths as I tried to steady myself. This was not the time to play fucking games.
I knew better than this. I really did.
I don't fucking know anything anymore.
Did I have fucking rocks?
I opened Marcus' office doors, slowly. He knew I was here; he had to. This place had surveillance here, there, and everywhere.
I was surprised to find Marcus sitting behind his desk, smoking a cigar while looking at his computer screen.
He looked up, pursing his lips in disapproval. "EC."
My mind raced as I stepped closer to him, hoping Marcus didn't have men picking up my loved ones at this very moment.
"Nobody has ever disappointed me like you. You were like a son to me. A fucking son." He spoke low, as he shook his head.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, and I truly was. For what I had done or what I had to do I couldn't be sure.
I pulled the nine into view, and before he could even blink, I aimed for his head, pulling the trigger.
The bullet zipped through the air, landing right between the eyes. Easy, too easy.
A goodbye to EC.
If only it were that easy.