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Chapter Fourteen

The jar felt heavier than it should as I stared at it, sitting there on the counter like some sick reminder of what I was about to do. I'd spent months scraping together every spare dollar, stuffing it in there for her—for the life she deserved but didn't think she'd ever have. And now I was about to take it all.

Goddamn it.

I unscrewed the lid, my hands trembling. The money inside wasn't much—nowhere near what she was worth—but it was enough to start over. Enough to get us out of this hellhole. I grabbed the bills and shoved most of them into my pocket, leaving a couple of twenties behind. Like that somehow made it better. Like it meant I wasn't a complete piece of shit.

It didn't.

I grabbed the notepad by the fridge, my hand moving faster than my brain as I scribbled a note. The words felt like they were scraping against my throat as I wrote them down.

"Emmett, I have to do this. I can't lose her.

– E"

I folded it and left it by the coffee pot, the only spot I knew he'd see before the day turned into chaos. He'd hate me when he found it. And he should. But this wasn't about him or me. This was about Bella. Keeping her safe. Keeping her alive.

The cold air outside slapped me in the face as I walked to the car, shoving the money deeper into my pocket like it could bury my guilt. The neighbor's TV was on, loud enough for the whole street to hear. Every channel was still running the same goddamn story.

Phil the Victim. Phil, the loving stepfather ambushed by his ungrateful stepdaughter and her dangerous boyfriend.

Bullshit.

I gripped the trunk harder than I should, slamming it shut as Bella came out of the house. The footage playing on the news had been edited into a masterpiece of lies. It showed Phil throwing money at me like he was some terrified saint, scared for his life. It didn't show him sneering at Bella, calling her names, making her flinch with every word. It didn't show the damage he'd already done—the kind of damage that left invisible scars deeper than any physical wound.

"We should just go up there and tell them what really happened, Edward," Bella said, her voice trembling as she crossed her arms against the cold.

I turned to her, my jaw so tight it ached. "And you think they'll believe us? Look at me, Bella. I've got a record a mile long, and they've already got you pegged as the problem. They've decided we're guilty. End of story."

Her eyes filled with frustration, her voice rising. "What about a lie detector test? If we took one, they'd have to believe us!"

I laughed, sharp and bitter. "Baby, they just doctored actual footage to make us look guilty as hell. You think they're gonna play fair with a fucking polygraph? Come on."

Her shoulders slumped, and I hated seeing the fight drain out of her. She stepped closer, wrapping her arms around my waist like I was the only thing holding her up. Her voice was soft, almost broken. "This sucks."

I hugged her back, too tight, the anger bubbling just under the surface. "Welcome to my world," I muttered, my voice darker than I meant it to be.

She groaned into me, her voice muffled against my chest. "It's not just the lies, Edward. It's Phil. They're making him look like the good guy, like he's some innocent victim. And he's not. He's not. It's like he's won again."

Her voice cracked, and my vision blurred with rage. Phil always won. Always. My grip on her tightened until she let out a small gasp of pain.

"Shit," I muttered, stepping back and letting her go. "I'm sorry, baby. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said, her wide eyes searching mine. "Are you okay?"

No. Not even close. I felt like I was on fire, and there wasn't a damn thing I could do to put it out. My fists clenched, my teeth grinding together as I thought about Phil and that smug fucking face of his. Him and Renee, the two of them like some twisted tag team of destruction, had hurt the only thing I cared about in the world.

Bella was the reason I was still breathing. The only reason I'd fought to be something better than the piece of shit I'd always been. And they had tried to destroy her, over and over again.

I wasn't going to let it happen anymore.

"Get in the car," I said, my voice sharp, edged with something I couldn't control.

She hesitated, her confusion plain, but she climbed into the passenger seat without arguing. I pulled the duffel bag from the back, unzipping it and grabbing the gun. The weight of it in my hand was familiar, grounding. I checked the clip—full, just like it always was. I handed it to her without a word and reached for the Colt in the glove box, loading it quickly.

Bella broke the silence. "The suspense is killing me, Edward. What's going on? Are we robbing a bank or something?"

I smirked, but it was sharp and humorless. "No, baby. We're not robbing a bank."

"Then why the hell are we packing heat?" she asked, holding the gun like it was a foreign object.

I grabbed her hand, shoving it back down. "Jesus Christ, kid, don't wave that thing around. You trying to get us killed?"

"Fine," she said, rolling her eyes. "But at least tell me what the hell's going on. I can't read your mind, you know."

I exhaled slowly, gripping the wheel tight. "We're making a pit stop before we leave. That's all."

Her eyes narrowed, suspicion sharp in her expression. "This pit stop…where exactly is it?"

I glanced at her, giving her a wolfish grin. "I was kind of hoping you'd give me the directions."

Her face froze as realization dawned. "We're going to Phil and Renee's house? Are you out of your goddamn mind?"

"What?" I shrugged, casual as I could manage. "You said it yourself. They think they've won. Fuck that. We're just gonna shake them up a little, that's all. Five minutes, in and out. Then we'll go get pancakes."

"Edward, this is not what I wanted," she snapped, throwing herself back against the seat. "I just wanted him to—"

"Pay?" I asked, my voice colder than I intended.

"Yes, but through the law," she said, her voice rising. "I wanted him to rot in jail for what he's done."

I reached over, my hand firm on her leg. "Baby, the law's not on our side. If you want that bastard to pay, we're gonna have to do it ourselves."

Her silence stretched, and I could see the war in her eyes. She hated it, hated me for saying it, but she knew I was right.

Finally, she sighed, her voice low. "Get on the 202 and head east."

I grinned, leaning over to kiss her hard. "That's my girl."

The houses looked like shit—run-down, peeling paint, weeds growing wild in every yard, chain-link fences half-falling over. It was the kind of neighborhood where people either gave up or got the hell out. As I drove down the street, something clicked in my brain.

I'd been here before.

Not recently, but about a year ago. This was one of my old stops, back when I was dealing every night to keep my head above water. Weed, ecstasy—mostly low-risk stuff for people looking to forget their miserable lives for a few hours. This street was just another place I'd hit and move on, another patch of dirt in the long line of shitty neighborhoods I'd worked.

But now? Now it felt different.

The realization hit me like a sucker punch. Had Bella been here then? Walking these same streets, dodging her stepdad's bullshit while I was slinging dime bags out of my car? Could she have walked right past me while I was grinning like an asshole, counting cash and thinking I had the world figured out?

Fuck.

I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, trying to shake the thought. There was no point in going there, but it was stuck in my head now. What if I'd been just another shitstain in her life? What if I'd been part of the background noise of everything that broke her down?

I glanced over at Bella. She was quiet, her hands clenched in her lap, staring straight ahead like she was already somewhere else. She didn't know. She couldn't know. And there was no way in hell I was telling her.

"I think we should park here and walk the rest of the way," I said, pulling up two blocks from her old house.

She nodded, but I could see her hands shaking.

I turned to her. "Listen, you don't have to do this. You can stay in the car if you want."

"No," she said immediately, her voice sharper than I expected. "I'm coming. I want to."

I studied her, looking for any sign she wasn't ready, but she looked determined. Nervous as hell, but determined.

"Alright," I said, brushing my thumb along her cheek. "Just follow my lead."

She nodded, and I leaned in, kissing her hard. It wasn't about comfort—it was about telling her without words that I had her, no matter what. When I pulled back, her breathing was uneven, but she looked more grounded.

"Let's go," I said, stepping out of the car.

The air felt heavy as we walked. The neighborhood was dead silent except for the occasional bird chirping, like the world hadn't figured out what kind of hellhole this place was. My eyes scanned every corner, every cracked sidewalk, and it all came rushing back. The busted mailboxes, the sagging porches, the smell of stale weed that seemed baked into the air.

A year ago, I'd been here, leaning against some piece-of-shit car, selling pills to some kid who could barely scrape together twenty bucks. It had meant nothing to me then. Just another deal, another few bucks in my pocket.

Now it felt like a goddamn weight on my chest.

The house came into view, and my jaw clenched so hard I thought my teeth might crack. Both cars were in the driveway, just like she said. I could picture Renee inside, brewing coffee for that bastard Phil, playing house like they weren't the reason Bella's life had been hell.

We stopped at the walkway, and I turned to Bella. "Do you trust me?"

Her eyes met mine, steady and sure. "Yeah. More than anything."

"Good," I said, pressing the doorbell.

The sound echoed inside, and within seconds, I heard the shuffle of those stupid pink slippers Bella had told me about. It pissed me off just hearing them.

When the door opened, Renee froze. Her eyes went wide, darting between me and Bella like she couldn't believe we were standing there. It wasn't until I pulled the gun from my waistband and aimed it at her head that the panic really set in.

"B-Bella?" she stammered, her voice weak, pathetic.

She looked at Bella like she expected her to fix this, like she thought Bella would save her. Are you fucking kidding me? The audacity made me want to pull the trigger right then and there, but I didn't. Not yet.

Beside me, Bella straightened, her face hardening into something cold and unflinching. When she spoke, her voice was calm, razor-sharp.

"Hello, Mother."

Renee's mouth opened, probably to curse us out or start screaming like a lunatic, but I shut that shit down before it started.

"Don't say a word," I said, calm as hell, stepping over the threshold with the gun in my hand. I wasn't in a rush. No reason to be. Renee wasn't going anywhere except where I told her.

Her hands shot up like that would make a difference, her eyes darting around like she was calculating her odds. Sweat was already dripping down her face, and she shuffled back, probably hoping I'd keep some distance. I didn't.

I glanced toward the bedroom. The shower was still running, water pounding against the tiles. That bastard Phil was clueless we were even here.

Good.

"Where does Phil keep his gun?" Bella asked, her voice sharp and cutting.

Wait, what?

I turned to her, my stomach dropping. "He has a gun?"

Bella didn't even look at me, her eyes locked on Renee. "Yeah, and if he gets to it, we're fucked."

Shit. That was bad. Real bad. I hadn't come here expecting to deal with some wannabe action hero. I thought we'd shake them up, say what needed to be said, and get the hell out. A gun in the mix? That changed everything.

"Where's the gun?" Bella demanded again, her voice louder.

"I-I don't know," Renee stammered, her voice trembling.

Bullshit. She absolutely knew. You don't live with a prick like Phil without knowing where he hides his toys.

"Living room," I said, gesturing with the gun. "Let's go."

Renee shuffled ahead of me, her head down like she was walking to her execution. She didn't even bother to plead or fight. She just moved, her shoulders hunched. Pathetic.

"Sit," I barked when we reached the couch. She dropped onto it like the cushions might protect her.

I sat on the coffee table across from her, resting the gun on my thigh but keeping it aimed at her. "Alright, Renee," I said, leaning forward a little. "Here's the deal: you don't move, you don't scream, and you don't even fucking breathe funny. Got it?"

She nodded, her lip trembling.

"We haven't been properly introduced," I said, holding out my free hand like I was some kind of gentleman. "I'm Edward. Your daughter owns me."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Bella roll her eyes, trying not to laugh. Yeah, I was laying it on thick, but why the hell not? If I was going to be the bad guy, I might as well enjoy it.

Renee looked at my hand like it was a trap, then finally reached out and shook it. Her hand was clammy and weak. "I know who you are," she mumbled.

I dropped her hand, my smile fading. "No, you don't," I said, my voice going flat.

The shower turned off, and Bella whistled softly, nodding toward the bedroom. I stood, gesturing for her to take my place across from Renee. As she moved, she pulled out her gun, and Renee's eyes widened like she'd just realized this wasn't a bad dream.

"Why do you look so surprised?" Bella asked, sitting down and leveling the gun at her.

Renee's face twisted, her fear giving way to anger. "I'm not surprised," she spat. "I knew the second the doctor handed you to me that you'd turn out to be a failure. Look at you. A criminal. Trash."

Jesus Christ. I'd seen some shitty parents in my life, but this woman took the prize. Bella's hand started to shake, and for a second, I thought she might lose it. But she recovered, locking her elbow and steadying her aim.

"Yeah, well, you're a disappointment to me too," Bella shot back, her voice cold.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Phil appeared, dripping wet and shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts.

"Alright, asshole," I said, stepping toward him. "Sit your ass down next to your wife."

He scowled, his eyes darting to Bella, then to me, like he was sizing up his options. Before he could say a word, I shoved him hard. He stumbled, nearly crashing into the coffee table before flopping onto the couch.

Dropping back onto the coffee table, I leaned forward again, my gun now aimed at Phil. Bella stayed quiet beside me, her own gun steady in her hands.

"This is cozy," I said, smirking. "Not exactly how I pictured meeting my girl's parents, but hey, life's full of surprises, right?"

Phil sat there on the couch, sneering like he still had control of the situation. "You're just digging yourselves into a deeper hole by coming here," he spat, his voice full of that smug arrogance that made me want to put his face through the wall.

I shrugged, keeping my gun steady, but my grip was so tight my knuckles ached. "Phil, buddy, I've been in deeper holes than this. Trust me. You and your bullshit cop connections don't scare me. If anything, this is just another Monday." I tilted my head, smirking. "But hey, props on your creative storytelling. That spin you put on the truth? Fucking top-notch."

Phil scoffed, his lip curling like the asshole he was. "That wasn't spin. That was the truth. And it's all her fault." His gaze snapped to Bella, his eyes dripping with contempt. "You just couldn't stay away, could you?"

Motherfucker.

I didn't think. I didn't hesitate. I stepped forward and cracked him across the head with the muzzle of my gun. Not hard enough to knock him out, but enough to make his head snap back and shut him the fuck up.

"Hey, asshole," I growled, leaning in close. "Don't look at her. Don't speak to her. You don't even get to fucking think about her. You hear me?"

Phil's glare shifted back to me, his jaw tight. He didn't say anything, which was the smartest move he'd made all day.

"What do you want?" Renee's voice cut through the tension, trembling and panicked. "Money? Is that it? Just take whatever you want and leave!"

I turned my head slowly, glaring at her. The fake tears, the dramatic shaking—it was all so goddamn pathetic.

"No, Renee," I said, my voice sharp and cold. "We're not here for your fucking money. We're here for the truth. Retribution. Payback. Whatever you want to call it." I gestured to Phil with the gun. "And we're not leaving until we get it."

"We're not guilty of anything," Phil said, his voice rising again, full of that same smug arrogance that made me want to put him through the goddamn wall.

I exhaled, shaking my head. "Phil, buddy," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "Let's not add lying to the list, huh? Me and Bella don't have all night. We've got plans. Big plans. Vegas plans." I threw an arm around Bella's shoulders and smirked at her. "She's never been there."

"You're disgusting," Renee spat suddenly, her voice full of venom. "She's seventeen. A child. What are you, thirty? How dare you molest my baby!"

I felt Bella stiffen beside me, her whole body tensing like she'd just been slapped. Her gun wavered slightly, her breath coming out sharp and uneven.

"I'm your baby?" Bella said, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. "Your fucking baby? How dare you even say that!"

Her finger twitched on the trigger, and for a second, I thought she might pull it.

"Hey," I said, my voice low as I reached over and squeezed her leg. "She's not worth it, baby. Don't let her get to you."

She exhaled shakily, easing her finger off the trigger. But the damage was done. I could see it in her eyes, the way that woman's words had cut her to the bone.

And it only pissed me off more.

I turned back to Renee, my jaw clenching so hard it hurt. "I'm glad you brought that up, Renee," I said, my voice sharp and cold. "Can I call you Renee? Great. Let's talk about what's really disgusting, shall we?" I pointed the gun at Phil, pressing it hard against his forehead. "Do you know what your husband's been up to behind your back?"

"This is ridiculous," Phil snapped, his voice rising as he glanced nervously at his wife. "Don't answer that, Renee."

"Phil," I said, my tone cutting like a knife, "you'll get your turn. Sit tight."

I looked at Renee, waving my free hand like I was giving her permission to speak. "Go ahead, Renee. Tell me—did you know your husband's been sniffing around your daughter?"

Renee blinked, her face blank and unreadable, like she wasn't even processing the words.

"Did you know?" Bella shouted, her voice breaking as she glared at her mother.

"No," Renee said flatly, her tone dismissive.

Bella sagged, her shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had just been dropped on her again. I felt her pain like a knife in my gut, and my anger surged, red-hot and uncontrollable.

"That's it?" I snapped, my voice rising. "That's all you've got? 'No'? That's your fucking answer?"

Renee's lip curled, her fake tears gone, replaced with that same cold indifference she'd probably had Bella's whole life.

I turned back to Phil, my rage barely contained. "You've got one chance to stop bullshitting me," I growled, my voice low and dangerous. "Because if I have to keep listening to your lies, I'm gonna lose my goddamn patience real quick."

"I don't know what you want from me!" Renee snapped, throwing her hands up. "I believe my husband. He's a good man!"

I laughed, sharp and bitter, the sound cutting through the room. "A good man?" I said, leaning forward, my gun now an inch from Phil's face. "You think this piece of shit is a good man? You're more delusional than I thought."

Beside me, Bella stayed silent, her jaw tight, her eyes burning with unshed tears. She was holding it together, but just barely. And every second of her pain made me want to break Phil and Renee into pieces.

"You two are the worst excuses for parents I've ever seen," I said, my voice low and full of venom. "And trust me, that's saying something."

I turned to Bella, my hand resting on her leg again, grounding her. "You okay?" I whispered.

She nodded, her jaw clenched, her eyes still locked on her mother.

Good. Because I wasn't stopping until these bastards paid, but before I could say a damn thing, Bella exploded.

"He's not a good man, Renee!" she screamed, her voice raw with anger I'd never heard before. "Every fucking night, he'd sneak into my room and watch me sleep. Every day, he got braver, touching me, preying on me, until he finally fucking forced himself on me. Your husband is a goddamn pedophile!"

Holy fucking shit.

I hadn't seen that coming. Not like that. I knew Bella had anger simmering under the surface, but that was a full-blown eruption. I barely had time to process it before Phil shot to his feet, his face red with rage.

"Shut the fuck up!" he roared, slapping Bella so hard it echoed through the room like a gunshot.

And that was it. That was my breaking point.

"You motherfucker!" I growled, the words ripping out of me as I surged forward. The gun in my hand cracked against his temple, and he hit the floor like the sack of shit he was.

That should've been enough. It wasn't.

I dropped on top of him, knees driving into his chest, pinning him down as my fists started swinging.

One hit.

Two hits.

Three.

I lost count somewhere after that.

The world went silent. Everything—Renee's screams, Bella's voice, the sound of my own heavy breathing—disappeared. The only thing I could hear was the sick, wet sound of my fists connecting with Phil's face. Over and over. Bloody flesh, breaking bones. It was music to me, a sweet, brutal symphony of justice.

My knuckles split open, the sting barely registering as blood—his, mine, both—spattered across the floor. Every punch was for Bella. Every hit was for every tear she'd cried, every night she'd spent afraid.

I couldn't stop.

Didn't want to stop.

The rage burned hotter with each swing, consuming everything until there was nothing left but me, my fists, and the mess I was making of Phil's face.

When my arms finally gave out, I was gasping for air, my hands shaking. I sat back on my knees, staring down at him. His face was unrecognizable—a swollen, bloody mass of flesh and bone. He was still breathing, though barely.

Good. I didn't want him dead. Not yet.

The silence broke like a sudden crash, and I blinked, looking around the room as the world came rushing back. Bella was across the room, pinning Renee down on the couch, her hand clamped over her mouth. Renee's eyes were wide with terror, her body trembling beneath Bella's weight.

"Edward?" Bella's voice cut through the haze, soft but steady.

I looked at her, still panting, my fists clenched at my sides. Her face was pale, her eyes searching mine like she wasn't sure who she was looking at anymore.

"Is he dead?" she asked, her voice barely audible.

I shook my head, still catching my breath. "No."

She nodded, some of the tension leaving her shoulders, but her eyes lingered on me, concern flickering across her face.

I glanced down at Phil, his chest rising and falling weakly. He wasn't going anywhere. Not anytime soon.

Bella slowly removed her hand from Renee's mouth, her voice trembling as she spoke. "Why didn't you protect me?" she demanded, her tone breaking. "Why didn't you care? I'm your daughter!"

Renee glared up at her, her face twisting into something cold and hateful. "You're not my daughter," she spat.

Bella froze, her body stiffening, and I saw the pain ripple across her face like a wave. That pain—her pain—lit something inside me all over again.

I stood and walked to her, wrapping her up in my arms. "It's over," I whispered, my voice low. "He'll never hurt you again. I swear to God."

She clung to me, trembling, her breath hitching against my chest.

Renee scrambled to Phil's side, sobbing and wailing like the fucking victim she wasn't. She wiped at his face with her robe, only making the mess worse.

"Get out," she whimpered, her voice barely audible.

I ignored her, walking to the counter and pulling her phone out of her purse. I dropped it onto the tile and stomped on it, the crack of plastic and glass shattering beneath my boot.

That wasn't enough.

I stormed through the house, the adrenaline still pumping so hard I could barely see straight. Renee's sobbing from the other room grated on my nerves, but I blocked it out. I wasn't done yet. Not by a long shot.

The landline was the first thing I found, sitting on the kitchen counter like it hadn't just been part of someone's shitty little fortress. I grabbed it, yanked the cord from the wall, and smashed it against the counter until it was in pieces.

"One down," I muttered, the sarcasm thick in my voice as I moved toward the bedroom.

Phil and Renee's room was just as gross as I expected—gaudy curtains, a bed that looked like it hadn't been changed in weeks, and the smell of stale sweat hanging in the air. On the nightstand, I found another phone. I grabbed it, tossed it to the ground, and stomped on it until it shattered beneath my boot.

As I was about to leave, something caught my eye. A folder.

It was sitting on top of a dresser, the corner sticking out like it was daring me to take a look. I hesitated for half a second before grabbing it and flipping it open.

Pictures. Of Bella.

My stomach turned. They weren't recent—thank Christ—but that almost made it worse. School photos. Snapshots. One from what looked like her sixteenth birthday, her smile tight and forced, her eyes already haunted. Alongside them was her current ID, a copy of her school schedule, and a few other scraps of paper with random notes written in Phil's sloppy handwriting.

Fucking hell.

My hand clenched the folder so tightly I thought I might tear it in half. What the fuck had he been planning? Was he keeping tabs on her? Reliving his sick fantasies?

I couldn't dwell on it. I didn't have time.

I pulled the pictures and ID from the folder and shoved them into my pocket, my jaw clenched so tight it felt like my teeth might crack. I wanted to burn this whole goddamn place to the ground, but that would have to wait.

I grabbed the last phone in the room, slammed it against the wall, and stomped on it for good measure before heading back to Bella.

She was standing by the couch, her shoulders tense, her face pale. Renee was still on the floor, crying over Phil like he was the goddamn victim.

"Time to go," I said, my voice rough.

Bella didn't argue, just reached for my hand and followed me out the back door.

We climbed the fence and ran down the street to the car. The sun was glaring overhead, too bright for the dark rage still simmering inside me.

As I started the engine and peeled out, Bella squeezed my hand, her touch grounding me for just a second. But my mind was still on those pictures, those notes. I didn't tell her about them. Not yet.

But one thing was crystal fucking clear: Phil had been obsessed with her. And if I hadn't been here to put an end to it, who knows how far he would've gone?

That bastard had no idea how lucky he was to still be breathing.

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