A/N

Something to cure those Monday blues? ;) Couldn't do it without the WG team ❤️

Chapter Thirteen: Focus

Edward

xXx

"What happened to your hand?" Natasha, my parole officer, asks me as I take a seat in front of her.

I give her a charming smile, "Nothin', don't worry about it, beautiful."

She hums, narrowing her eyes. "Stop that, Edward."

I stare at her innocently, "Stop what? I'm just being honest." I pout, resting my arms on the chair. I really am, too; she's fucking gorgeous, her deep brown eyes sparkle, and her rich, ebony complexion has an incredible glow to it.

"You're barking up the wrong tree," she points out, arching an eyebrow.

I laugh, "I know, your wife is a lucky woman."

"And flirting with me isn't gonna get you any special favors," she adds.

I grin. "So you keep telling me, but we both know I'm your favorite."

Natasha's lips twitch, and I wink at her.

She places the little cup on the desk and arches her eyebrow. "Go on then, piss in the cup."

I take it and smirk at her. "I love it when you talk dirty to me."

She snorts, and I laugh, standing and walking into the adjoining bathroom.

When I come back in, Natasha holds out the plastic bag, and I drop the cup inside.

"No drugs, right?" she says, warningly. "You know it's better if you tell me now."

"Don't you trust me?" I ask, jutting my bottom lip out.

Natasha rolls her eyes. "You are a fucking menace. God help whatever girl ends up settling down with you."

"Awfully presumptive, assuming it'll be a girl," I tease.

Natasha gives me a look. "I have your file; I know you're straight."

"And what does straight even mean, really," I say playfully. I'm just fucking with her; we both know it.

She scoffs, jerking her head to the door, "See you next week, and whatever happened to your fucking fist, if I get someone coming in and telling me you're up for an assault charge, I'm going to be pissed."

I hold up my hands. "Didn't hurt anyone but myself, I promise."

Natasha hums, and I shoot her a smile. "See you next week; looking forward to it already." She rolls her eyes, but her lips twitch again, and I know she fucking loves it.

I have a cigarette in my lips the second I step out of the building, and I breathe in the nicotine gratefully, grimacing at my hand. I broke the fucking lamp in my room yesterday after Isabella said that shit.

I grit my teeth, almost biting down on the cigarette as anger rushes through me again. The fucked-up part is, I feel fucking sorry for her, even though I shouldn't, even though I want to fucking hate her. People are complicated, I know that. I've always fucking known that, it's the only reason Es and I have a relationship.

Isabella has shit going on; I can fucking see it, but it's not a good enough excuse. Christ, if anyone else spoke to me like that, they'd be fucking dead.

The sun shines down on my back, the wind hissing past, sending a wintry chill down my spine. I grab my Ray-Bans from my chest and put them on, letting my eyes adjust to the light as I head down to the street.

People rush past me on their lunch hour, dressed in suits and smart dresses, mingling with the crowds of tourists and Instagram models. No one fucking looks at each other; no one cares enough.

I stop by the subway and hand a cigarette to the young homeless kid sitting at the steps, holding out my lighter to him.

"Thanks, man," he says, shivering. He looks about sixteen, and he's clearly set up shop here, a sleeping bag wrapped around him.

"What the fuck are you doing so far out?" I ask him curiously, squatting as I light another cigarette myself. "Sadie's got no space?"

His eyes light up; only people who've been on the streets know what fucking Sadie's is.

"Need dough," he mutters, gesturing to the torn-up snapback in front of him, where a few quarters sit.

I arch my brow at him. "You making any?"

He shakes his head. "Nah, but gotta hold out. Need a hit."

I hum, "Fair enough." I'm not gonna help him score, but I'll sit with him for a minute. "What's your name, kid?"

"Ali," he mutters, "you?"

"Masen," I say, resting my elbows on my knees. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Kicked out?" I ask, arching a brow.

Ali's expression darkens, "Had to leave," he mutters. I recognize the look in his eye, my jaw clenching.

"You know the pizza place on 51st?" I ask him. He nods. "When you're done here, go there and tell them Mase sent you. Guy who runs it, Pedro, he's got a good scheme, let's kids eat for free with any leftovers from the main counter."

"Fuck, really?" Ali asks excitedly.

"Yeah, but you keep that shit under wraps; if every fucker knows, then it won't work anymore, will it?" I narrow my eyes at him.

"Of course," he nods, his eyes sparkling. "Thanks, man."

He finishes the cigarette, and I dump my pack in his lap, winking at him. "Look after yourself, kid, and stay the fuck away from the hard shit. It'll fuck you up for good," I warn him, standing up.

He gives me a huge smile. "Yeah. Sure."

I nod and walk down the steps. Don't know why I fucking bothered saying that shit. Kid was fucking twitching for a hit so bad there's no way sheer will would stop him or get him clean. Marcello's boys love to fuck with the younger street kids, offer them free hits of the pure stuff, get them to do anything they fucking want just for another taste.

I'd been tempted once, but James never let me touch anything but weed. I was fucking lucky. Still am. I worked my ass off for Marcello, and I was going up the ranks, sure, but my friendship with Ricko is how I'm here, how I'm working for Charlie, how I'm gonna be able to help Tommie. If it works, then I'm the luckiest motherfucker alive.

xXx

Before I got out of Prison, I'd only been to the hospital once in my fucking life, and that was when Es was giving birth to Tommie. Now I've been here almost every weekend.

I get to Dr. Sand's office and rap on the door.

"Come in."

I enter and grin at the gray-haired man behind the desk. He's a good guy, been good to Tommie, even though there's only so much he can do without any insurance. The aid company has given us as much support as they can - but it's not enough to help Tommie; he needs more.

"Masen, hey!" he greets me, standing and walking around the desk to shake my hand.

"Hey, doc."

"Have a seat," he gestures, and I sit in front of him, rubbing my hands on my jeans. I'm itching for another cigarette; had to rush off the subway to get here and didn't have time. "I've been in touch with a colleague of mine, he's one of the best in the field, and I think, if you can afford it, he's the right guy to go to."

"Okay," I say hoarsely.

"Okay," Dr. Sand repeats, his hazel eyes fixing on mine. "How much do you have so far?"

I swallow. "Twenty so far, how much do I need?"

Dr. Sand smiles, "That's great; we can definitely get started."

"How much, doc?" I ask, my jaw clenching.

He sighs. "It'll end up being close to a hundred thousand dollars, maybe more."

I close my eyes and lean back in my chair. "Fuck."

"Is that gonna be okay?"

That means months and fucking months of dealing with Isabella, but I've got no fucking choice. "Yeah."

"Okay." Dr. Sand nods. "Carlisle wants fresh scans, fresh blood work, everything, so you can contact him today and get that first appointment set. Then he'll be able to prep Tommie for his first rounds of chemo and arrange some marrow transplants. He's excellent, Edward, one of the best pediatric oncologists in the country. He's Tommie's best chance. But...if you think the costs are going to be too high, I can recommend you to someone else."

"No," I say quickly, "this guy...Carlisle, did you say? He's the one I want. I can cover the costs; I'm good."

"Good, you're doing an amazing thing for your brother," Dr. Sand says, smiling warmly at me. "Carlisle...Dr. Cullen rather, he's a good friend and a great guy, as well as an excellent doctor; I'm putting you in hands way better than mine."

"I really fucking appreciate everything you've done so far, doc," I say gratefully. "Thank you for sorting this out with Dr. Cullen too."

"Of course." Dr. Sand grins, standing again and handing me a load of paperwork. I shake his hand and then head out the door.

xXx

"This is the best day ever." Tommie giggles, chocolate ice cream all over his fucking face. I grin at him and hand him a napkin.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck yeah!"

I narrow my eyes but let him get away with it; he looks so fucking happy right now, he could literally tell me he'd murdered someone, and I'd be smiling.

When I'd picked him up from school, he'd been waiting outside for me, practically vibrating with excitement, his blonde hair sticking up all over his head.

I'd teased him about only going to school because I was picking him up, and he'd grinned at me and said he just wanted me to be proud of him. I'd felt like fucking scooping him up and squeezing him tight, but his friends were around, and I didn't want to embarrass him.

I squeezed him after, though. Took him to the skatepark, showed him how much I fucking suck and then watched him mess around on the new skateboard I'd picked up for him. It wasn't expensive, less than fifty dollars, and I should probably have put that in the pot towards his treatment, but shit made him smile, and I need him fucking positive. Besides, the doc said I have enough to get him started; just gotta keep working for Charlie until it's all paid for.

I can cope with Isabella for Tommie; I can cope with fucking anything for Tommie.

It's nice and warm in the ice cream parlor, ironically, and the seats are comfy as fuck. The kid's been stuffing his face with chocolate and vanilla, dripping it all fucking over him. Fuck it; I couldn't care less he's making a mess.

"Want a bite?" Tommie asks me, giving me a chocolatey smile.

"Nah, buddy, you've slobbered all over it anyway, fucking gross." I tease, winking at him.

Tommie laughs, waving his cone, "You sure?"

I snatch it from him and take a bite. Shit tastes fucking amazing.

"God damn," I mumble around the ice cream, my brain seizing a little at the cold substance.

Tommie reaches for it back, and I pull it away, grinning. "Nah, think I'll keep it."

He bursts into giggles, "Hey! Ed…"

I roll my eyes, "Fine, fine." I start to give it back but then take another bite.

Tommie gasps in mock horror and snatches it from me. "Evil!" he scolds. "That was a huge bite."

"Whaddoomean?" I say with my mouth full.

He snickers, and I cross my arms on the table, smiling at him. "I fucking love you, I know I don't say that shit often, but I do."

"I know." Tommie smiles, his green eyes light and happy, "I love you too, Edward."

"Hey, if we don't tell Es you had ice cream, think she'll let you eat even more when we get home?" I ask, winking at him.

Tommie grins. "Mom wouldn't care anyway; she kind of lets me do whatever, it's the best. Was she like that with you too?"

I lean forward and brush his hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, buddy, of course. She's a great mom."

It's not a lie; she's a great mom to him, as great as she can be, anyway. He doesn't need to know about my childhood, about what she was like back then. She's different now; that's what matters.

xXx

When I get to the Swan's on Wednesday morning, D is sitting in the kitchen, talking to Pattie. He nods at me and pulls at his sleeve, making my eyes narrow. Something about him seems off to me, but I can't figure it out. He gets up the second I walk into the room, and I drop my bag on the floor, running a hand through my hair.

"Good morning, sweetheart," Pattie greets me, already going to the coffee machine.

"It is now I've seen you," I flirt.

She flushes and beams at me. "You seem in a good mood today."

I place a hand on my chest in mock hurt, "Are you trying to say I'm usually grumpy? Fuck Pattie, that shit wounds me."

Pattie opens her mouth to respond when Isabella suddenly storms through the kitchen, her eyes on her phone. I catch her before she walks straight into me, and for a split second, as she looks up at me, her eyes are soft and open, glittering slightly from the sun in the room. She looks beautiful.

Then she opens her mouth, her face scrunching up. "Ugh, you're here already," she wrenches back from me.

"Yep," I drawl. Pattie is right, I am in a good fucking mood, and Isabella's antics can't fuck with me today. Not when I'm still high from Tommie's laughter and finally getting his treatment planned.

Isabella scoffs, "Lucky me...and there I was, thinking you might have fucked off for good."

"Lucky you," I repeat, biting my tongue and arching an eyebrow.

Her eyes flicker before she slams her phone down on the counter. "Pattie, can I please have a coffee and while you're at it, spit in his."

Pattie rolls her eyes at me. "Why don't you go ahead and do that, love? I'm staying out of it."

Isabella hums, a wicked smile adorning her pouty lips. "I would, but he'd probably like that."

I give her a bored look, knowing it'll piss her off.

Pattie places my coffee in front of me, and I'm just about to grab it when Isabella takes it instead. She cocks her head at me and then smirks, tilting the cup, so the coffee is splashing over the floor. I hear Pattie grumble in the background, but she's used to this behavior by now.

I stay still, even though I'm twitching to rip it out of her fucking hands.

She turns it upside down, making me hiss as the hot coffee touches my toes through my shoes. "Whoops," Isabella says innocently. "Guess there's no coffee for you."

"Guess not." I shrug, staring into that captivating latticework of blue, green, and brown. Her eyes narrow at my lack of response, and I arch an eyebrow. "You done yet? Want to spill some more coffee? Call me Fido again? Break something of mine? Because sweetheart...I can do this. All. Fucking. Day."

Isabella exhales, something clouding her eyes for a second before it disappears. "So can I," she says in the same tone, giving me an evil smile.

I open my mouth to respond when ice-cold water is suddenly drenching me. I gasp in surprise then clench my jaw hard as I glare at her, water sliding down my cheeks and dripping from my shirt.

"Bella!" Pattie chastises.

Isabella stares at me for a second, leaning closer, "You might think that you can handle me, Fido, but you have no idea what I'm capable of."

I grit my teeth, words flying out of my mouth before I can help it. "No, you fucking brat, you have no idea what I'm capable of."

Isabella places her hand to her mouth in mock horror. "Oh, no, whatever will you do?" She lowers her voice, "Strangle me again? Hit me this time? Go on, do it."

I grab the jug of water on the counter, next to the empty glass she just threw all over me, and upturn it over her head.

She shrieks, and I smirk at her. "Nah, I think I'll just play the game you started."

My traitorous eyes flick down to her soaked T-shirt, her hard nipples pressing out of the material as it clings to her perky tits. I swallow hard.

"For God's sake," Pattie mumbles, "I'm getting the mop."

When I drag my eyes up to Isabella's face, she's smirking at me again. "Is that the only way you can make a girl wet?" she says in a sad voice, pushing her fucking plump bottom lip out.

I hate how fucking hard my cock is.

"Nah, it's just the best way to drown a rat," I state calmly, arching a brow at her.

Her upper lip curls in anger, and I grin.

"Should I wait for you to come up with a response, or are we done here?" I ask, giving her a smug smile. Isabella opens her mouth, and I shake my hair like a dog, spraying droplets everywhere.

"You're fucking disgusting." She scowls, spinning around and storming off, her feet making wet slaps across the floor.

"Well played," Pattie chuckles, walking into the room with a mop.

"I'll do that," I tell her, grabbing it from her. "Where's SJ?"

"Doing the groceries," Pattie says, smiling warmly at me. "You don't have to Masen."

"Nah, I'm fine, but you could make me another coffee; it seems like mine is gone," I smirk.

Pattie laughs and heads to the counter as I start mopping the floor.

A/N

I know you all think Bella is horrible, but Fido can handle her just fine ;) Don't worry...

Those wondering how this will ever be a B/E? Well that's all part of the fun, isn't it ;)

I love this Edward - he is gorgeous. Hope you like him too ❤️