A/N: Ya'll killed it with reviews last few chaps. Going to a family reunion, haven't see them since before pandemic. Do not wantttt. Grant me a review so I get to stupidly smile at my phone while there (I see those new reviewers I've never seen before *blush emoji* thanks!). A review will make time pass faster. xoxox Best readers in the biz. Pray for Bella.

..::.. Chapter 60 - F*king the Boss ..::..

I watch her. She's adjusting her gloves. Those type that are fingerless. It's so much. So cliche and ridiculous. If my eye lid wasn't puffed and shut I might just roll my eyes.

She came in hot. The door swung open, the Cullen's sent her in. I applaud them. They didn't send a man to muscle answers out of me, they sent a woman. At least they got one thing right.

I'm in that hole Riley died in. Maybe the same, maybe a different one. I don't know. All I know is the cargo plane left me exposed to the elements.

The plane took flight—a big, empty cabin inside with tracks to pull cargo made of metal, nothing to hold on to—I was consumed in heat, then frost. My toes blue. I pulled Edward's cotton pants over them and slid my arms inside his T-shirt. They were the only items I was able to grab. If it wasn't for that, I'd be exposed to … anything in just a silk robe and a bikini, a barely there two piece that worked great back there, on the island, where I spent weeks with him.

How silly it all feels now. I was consumed, I was reckless.

I'm swollen now and bleeding. I spit out blood. I watch her. When she came in, she swung. I didn't have time. I fell over the table, the only item in the room along with a chair.

I'll give it to her; she's strong and fast. She grabbed my hair and my face felt like it exploded over the table a second time with the bang.

Here we are. She hasn't advanced. I guess this is her strategy; to command when she arrives.

My heart was at my throat with the hours of waiting for something to happen here. I feared they'd send Emmett in to finish me. I prepared for the worst. I anguished, I raged silently with Edward's T-shirt balled through my lips at this mess. My negligence: Efraim, Stephen, fucking Riley Biers still haunting me with the residue he left behind.

The door creaked open and Jenks was at the other end. He threw in bottled water and slammed the door shut.

I couldn't help but laugh at the irony. Me here, an agent untouched and still the biggest threat in this mess. I got angry and the tears dried up.

That was enough of that.

I've survived so much. I've been through hell and back, bullets in me and some traveled out leaving scars. I could endure this. This is nothing. This is … the interim. The goal; to get Edward in here. I need to see him.

"You're young." I say, observing. I crouch by the far wall away from her … fists. Her braids are tight and long down her back. Full, dark painted lips and dark skin. She's gorgeous. And I wonder what business a girl like this has with the Cullens. She looks like she's endured her share in life. "How old?" I close my eyes to breathe. It's been a good half hour of silence. I'm not sure if this is what torture is like.

"Where did the names go?" She asks. Her first question.

I sigh. "You seem really young, and you don't fit in."

"Answers, not small talk," she offers.

"You shouldn't be here. You should be out … in college, or making honest money. Partying with friends, or, I don't know, fuckin' training to be a boxer if that's what you're into."

"Where did the names go?"

"You shouldn't waste your talent here. Trust me … "

"Names."

"You don't want this life with these imbeciles. I know them. I know what they're capable of."

She's quiet.

"Why are you here?" I push. Which in turn has her push off the door and rush toward me. I pin her to the wall with the table. A ruckus between us, screeching floors, a fallen chair. She pushes back until it's a war.

"Why are you here?"

"I'm asking the same," she answers.

"Where's your mother?"

She climbs on and her fist connects with my face. Like I said; fast.

"Fuck." I slowly roll to my knees. I see drops of blood splattering onto the dirty floor.

"What's your name?" I ask.

She kicks my middle. I lose breath.

The lightbulb is my beacon. I stare at it as the air comes back. I lift a finger for her to wait. She does. She's nice.

When I mentioned her mother, there was a spark in her.

I roll to my side. Air. "Thanks," I wheeze out. I crawl away … to try this again.

"You don't wanna know," I say to her as an answer. "But I'll give you a little if you give me a little," I say, about information.

She tightens her fists. Definitely a set of metal knuckles in those gloves. Shit.

"How do you know them?" I ask about the Cullens.

She shakes her head. "You first."

I revel inside. She's playing along. "Fine. I wanted to be exceptional at my job." I shrug, refraining from the truth. "I didn't want to fuck up." I catch her eyes. "Do you know what they do if you fuck up at your job?"

I laugh a little. "I mean, sure, it's this." I point at this situation. "But I'm still alive. And that's saying something. You know why?" I don't wait for her to answer. "I know them. Imagine what they do to those they don't know?"

"You're fucking the boss." She sneers, because, yeah. It looks bad. Dirty.

I smile, a crooked one. "My boyfriend in high school. Sweethearts. So, imagine if he wasn't?"

We stare. She's listening.

"You fucking the boss?" I ask. My brow in a quirk.

She's not. She's quiet.

"I wonder what they do to girls with talent who take up a job to get through college."

She's getting angry.

"I've wasted my life on them. Here I am."

She kicks. I catch her foot and pull. Her back slams on the floor. That surprises her. We're both splayed. Me with the weakening effort.

She shakes it off and finds her feet. I cannot.

"Your turn. To give a little," I say panting from the floor.

"Why the names?" She asks. I sigh.

"The accountants have their money. I needed that money to fulfill my job," I say. "Now, you."

"I do too," she says.

I'm sitting up. I nod.

"How do I fulfill mine?" she asks. I look up from behind my hands where I rest my eyes. She's terrified, a hint in her sharp, hazel ones.

I spit up more blood. I remember things. They appear like Polaroids materializing, a narrative in my farthest memories of Emmett teaching Edward to sleep under strain and struggle.

I stand and get ready. "By getting far away from here. I'll show you," I say. I brace myself—fists up, shoulders tense. She comes at me and swings. I dodge. I punch her rib, then grab her elbow to unbalance her. She staggers back and I get a punch in, right on her eye. She's angry, blind, charging. The next swing she connects with the cement wall where my head was. The crunch of bones through her fingers is slight, but for her growl. I wrap my arm around her neck and grip my own wrist. I squeeze.

I pray this works while she kicks and kicks.

Just before she fades to black I tell her, "Calm down. Play dead when you wake. You go right back to your mother and you don't come back."

She sleeps.

I fucking breathe. My heart hammering. This could've gone to shit.

Adrenaline. Everything begins to hurt. I cry from sheer relief and pull away from under her.

I crawl to the door and bang it.

The lock jolts. I let my back hit the wall and I wait.

Jenks pushes the door further and looks. He cuts his eyes to me. Other guards look in. They stand back with big eyes.

Jenks' jaw goes sharp. He grabs her arm and swings it over his neck.

"Be careful with her," I say. "She's just a kid."

Jenks looks at me and he gets it. Not dead.

"I got it," he snaps at the other guys who come to help, ready to drag her out by her feet. He hoists her up, over his shoulder, and walks out. In his hands now.

Jasper appears. His steps slow and deliberate out of a limo, in a suit and fedora. He looks at the unconscious girl, he pauses. He slowly makes his way to me.

I get up and move to the back.

He takes one good look at me from the door. "You know what I want. Whenever you're ready," he says before stepping away.

He sends in a tall, built woman with red hair.

This, I can't talk my way out of.

….