A/N: If you read the WIP from years back, this is where we lest off (or where I last updated), from here on, it's new work.
Answers to questions will be answered as we go. Hope you're keeping up. I see your questions, and I love them! Thanks.

..::.. Chapter 46 - Half-blooded Truth ..::..

The piles of tape and envelope paper are on my bed. The package sent to Sue's shop was for me today, and I know what it is.

Today was a long day. My heart is heavy. I didn't speak to Edward after the first collection in that deli. I'd hop out of the car as he waited and I'd walk into a shop, a bodega or gas station; All under the thumb of the Cullen family. Don't even try having a business without making it the business of the Cullen men.

He dropped me off at home by dinner time, no further comments or orders from him. I couldn't look at his face.

It's silly to have thought the things he does aren't horrible. That's the job; to intimidate, to gain power. Mom's warnings and arguments about this weighs on me now.

Deep regret.

The phone in my hand is new, straight out of the package. Jasper said he would send it to me to contact them if I ever have questions. Well, I do.

All questions, and all from a very vivid dream.

I recognize the first saved contact. Edward's guard. I won't be making that call. The second has to be the one.

One ring. Two. The line is alive.

"We need to talk," I say. He's quiet on the other end. "I'll come to you, but either way it'll be tonight."

"No," he says calmly. "I'll come to you." He hangs up.

My nerves are spiked. I pull on some shoes and walk out of my apartment. I won't have him come into my place.

I watch pedestrians walk about, and I'm numb. The sun is setting, and my heart feels the same. Just dimming with life.

A limo pulls up and stops in the middle of the street as a dark tinted window rolls down. I see a masculine hand emerge from shadows, beckoning me to come with a few fingers.

I hop in.

The air is full of tension and expensive cologne. He keeps quiet after directing the driver to just drive.

The limo is long. He sits on the side, a glass of liquor in his hand, wrist resting on the shiny mahogany mini bar beside him. His watch glimmers under the crisp white cuff of his shirt, the link there is onyx, surrounded by diamonds that glimmer, too.

I end up at the end; the throne to this luxury. I look around. A monitor in mute broadcasts foreign news; the stock exchange as a ticker at the bottom of the screen moves. A hoisted tablet by my chair. It's dark, and I wonder if this is where he does his work.

He crosses a leg over the other, and he swishes an ice cube in his mouth until it seems to dissolve. He gazes out the window, his tongue sweeping over his teeth. He finally looks over, skeptically observing me; head to toe.

"You never planned on telling me anything," I say.

He sucks his teeth. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"That's been the front, hasn't it? All these years. But I remembered. I … don't know what I did remember," I say with a pause. "But it's clear that the dream had a lot of you in it."

"I cannot imagine you evoked me just to get interpretations of dreams. I suggest you get to the point, Isabella," he says.

"You killed your father. You had no choice."

Jasper's stare is blank. He lets his eyes close as he averts mine. He finds an interest outside.

"This is when you tell me everything," I push, leaving room for his response. He doesn't budge.

"Why did you keep it from everyone?" I ask.

"Not Emmett," he finally says. "And I'd like to keep it that way."

"And now me," I add with a nod. He confessed it. I watch the streets go by just as he does and we're in this sinking silence.

"Don't make me beg," I utter.

"What do you want to know?" He suddenly remarks. "That I'm ashamed of my father? That I had an inclination, from the beginning, about a younger brother coming into the family suspiciously. Yet, there he was, taking up an old crib, eating at our dinner table; a part of us. I was a fool to let that oddity slip, so was my mother for allowing it. All because no one could ever question my father." He trails away.

"So, Emmett knows about his ... family."

"He was his little helper," he begins to say. "He did all the hushed jobs we didn't know about. The victimized, brooding boy feeling like the outsider, made to feel important, useful.

"He was Major's connection to the McCarthy family. Anything he needed. That family watched their own from afar, being raised by the enemy. The times they begged to get him back. His mother …" He looks forlorn, sighing. "She was a beauty. Of course, my mother figured who she was after learning about a death during labor; town gossip. What else would she have done when she made the connection? She kept it quiet and took in the infant," he says. "She told Emmett the truth. She couldn't live with herself."

"Hushed jobs like sending people after me?" I confirm.

He takes a drink and swallows. "Just like those."

My heart pounds. Of course, Emmett would be the one to plan hits against me. I can hardly believe it. I don't know what to think, really.

"Why my mother? Why not just me?"

He quirks his neck.

"The intent was always you. That, I knew. But your mother …," he says in wonder. "She was the fierce protector of her cub." He chuckles once. "Always so brave, but unpredictable." He looks to me.

He raises a brow. "Major didn't like it. I tried my hardest to avert his eye away from Renee. Boy, did I try. I couldn't possibly do that to her and her child, but I was outnumbered.

"We kept it from Edward. We would all have a target on our backs if he knew. All for a silly girl … with a mind so sharp, opinionated, and so poisoned. Really, we feared you more than our nephew. You were the tendons to his neck; turning his head this way or that. We couldn't have that. Major couldn't have that.

"That was the plan. And I stopped that plan," he finishes.

I watch him intently. He swirls his glass with liquid, mind elsewhere.

"You came too late," I add.

"And not a day goes by I don't regret," he says right back.

My eyes blur. My throat constricts. "What the hell took you so long?"

He shakes his head. "God only knows. I had just learned about Emmett when Major told you. You, with a gun pointed at him in his chair. I thought you'd pull the trigger. I hoped you would.

"I was furious. It was hell on wheels to find Emmett and confirm it, or kill him myself. I don't know what I would have done if I'd found him." He pauses, swallows the bitter taste of the contents of his glass and his story. "I drove back the moment I realized my impulsive mistake."

I let the tears fall. "I watched her die," I say angrily.

"I did too," he gives me a pointed look. His laments were loud in my memories, pouring over her. "Two offspring watching their respective parent bleed out, only you didn't have to kill yours," he adds.

"Maybe I did," I utter at my hands on my lap. All my bad choices put her through that.

He scoffs. "Don't be ridiculous. The culprit was a terrible, old man with an authority complex. I've lived with my decision because I don't regret it. You should have no misgivings; you fought hard to the end."

I peek up at him from under my lashes. He said that with grit. Years have taught him to be at peace.

"How did your brothers and Edward take it then?"

He pours himself a few more fingers tall of liquor. The new ice cubes clink sharply as he tosses them in.

"Not well. Edward was worst off, but I figured he just mourned you, not entirely his grandfather."

Like sparks, details come back in memory. Edward's act as a crazy man derived from losing me, not his grandfather. The robe he wore was just a convenient detail.

I blink away remnant tears. "What did you tell them?"

He breathes deeply, not wanting to reply. I let the weight of silence settle right in for the long haul. I'll wait.

"I put my father back in his chair in our living room, declared the driver the paid assassin, and prayed it would all make sense."

I'm speechless. All of that to cover the truth.

"Why all the lies?" I finally conjure up the nerve to ask.

His stare sticks. Audacity in his expression. Ridiculous question.

"You did it for her," I say. "You planned to do it anyway, the day he set eyes on her."

He remains silent.

I sigh. I guess it was inevitable. Mom's days were counted. No matter what I would have done, they would've killed her anyway. He knew. He spared me because I was lucky enough to lose the memory of it all.

"We all did our part," he says as if he can hear my thoughts. "You avenged her long ago, I did also." He spears me with his words. "So, whatever you're looking for, planning, slithering your way in; forget it. Take the freedom you've acquired, and move on with your life. It's what she would've liked," he says of Mom.

I sniff up a cry and dry my tears with my thumbs. No more from this moment on. I'm done. "If you ever loved her, you'd know that's a lie. She'd tell me to fight like hell, just like she did."

"What I do know, Isabella, is your course. And you've been through this path before. Question is, do you want it to end the same? I won't be there to save you this time. Especially not your loving stepmother and father."

My stomach knots. I glare at him, his insinuation.

He nods. Takes another long drink until the very last drop. He places the glass on mahogany, taps a few knuckles against the privacy barrier so the driver can hear, and leans toward me.

"It would be a shame to ruin her career, the shop's expansion…" he tsks. "Everything she has worked hard for.

"I could tell her, one phone call away, that her signatures actually gave up all revenues to the Cullen family. And If I wanted, I could sell off her brand to the highest bidder. I knew you'd come eventually. It was easy to charm her with an offer I knew she sought for so long. One step ahead of you, sweetheart.

"And if you think that's terrible, just wait and see what I'd do to my old pal Charlie." He waves a wrist toward me. "It's up to you. History can repeat itself."

The car door opens, and I'm dragged out by my collar. I don't get the chance to react. I kick my legs as I try to find my bearings. Night has fallen, but under the dim street lights above, I recognize him. He never was a fan of mine. I know this now.

Emmett sees me eye to eye, but only because he dangles me off the ground.

Jenks just stands there watching.

….